


What if Tabasa hadn't died?

by TNKT



Category: End Roll (Video Game)
Genre: Abusive Parents, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Attempted Murder, Bruises, Canon Backstory, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Chris is a really good friend, Creepy Stranger, Developing Friendships, Drug Dealing, Emotionally Repressed, For the most part, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Murder, No HD Rehab Program, Prostitution, Psychological Trauma, Russell's dead bunny, Slow Build, Suicide, Tabasa's alive!, Things are different thanks to him, but hey at least Russell doesn't have to suffer through all that shit, extremely bad parenting, so no Raymond or Walter or Fairia or Yue
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2018-09-16 01:44:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 52,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9268223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TNKT/pseuds/TNKT
Summary: Russell meets Tabasa in the same way as they say he does in the game, but he fails when he tries to kill him.What would happen then? Would it change anything to Russell's fate?Let's find out how Tabasa tries to make Russell's life better and maybe manages it.Or, the story where finally someone helps Russell before it's too late.





	1. Bruises

Russell was a little boy.

He was a hurt little boy, so hurt that the bruises he wore across his skin sunk deep into his body, into his bloodstream, up to his head. His brain became bruised as well. His mind became black, purple and blue, and the shades of those colors became darker every time his father's heavy hand came down. Russell became emptier each time his father finished a bottle.  
His heart shriveled up a little more every time his mother refused to give him even the smallest of hugs. She didn't want him there, his existence was the most useless thing to ever happen in her life. She wanted to hold anyone but her son. Any man but him. Any man would do, and she tried to forget she had a son.  
To survive, both his mind and heart had to throw feelings away.

Russell became unable to feel anything. He'd managed to become what he needed to be: a child that wouldn't complain, or cry, or care. A child who felt that the only way to remain like this was to make those who could make him change... disappear.

He didn't think it. He knew it. It wasn't a discovery, or something he thought was out of bounds. The fact that he could kill others was as fundamental a knowledge as breathing and walking. If anyone was a threat to his indifferent way of living, if anyone had the power to make him care, then they had to go, and that was it. There were no exceptions to this way of thinking: anyone could bleed red, anyone could become cold, and no one would tell. It was easy to make other living beings disappear. They were so fragile. So easily breakable. Forgettable. Meaningless.

It was simple and easy.  
A simple and easy way to survive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin.  
> Just setting the mood first. A quick reminder of where Russell comes from, poor little guy.  
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	2. The Zoo, Tabasa

That day, Russell was tired of listening to his father's incessant yelling. He was tired of seeing bottle beers everywhere he looked, tired of smelling his father's drunken breath, tired of his mother's passive and uncaring gaze. So as soon as his parents looked away from him, he snatched up some money from his mother's purse and got out of the house.  
Surely animals would be better company than his parents. He'd be better off going out alone, no need to go get Chris. Besides, Russell intended to go to the zoo and Chris didn't seem to like animals very much.  
Russell knew there wouldn't be too many people there at this time of the day, so he'd be left alone and no one would bother him.

When he stepped inside the zoo, holding a crumpled zoo ticket in his fist, he noticed there was practically no one there. He crossed two, three people on the way to the giraffes' paddock, a couple sitting on a bench across from the birdhouse, and that was all.  
He was walking along the tigers' inclosure when he heard someone's voice calling out to him a few meters away.  
"Hey, you!"  
He looked up, his gaze landing on a young man wearing a dark green coat. The man's black hair sported a noticeable hair ornament, golden threads glinting in the sunlight coupled with a shiny blue bead and a green diamond. Russell didn't answer, staring at the object with quiet interest.  
The man drew near and stopped in front of him, a small dipper clanging in the empty metal bucket.  
"You're a new face.  
...Did you come here alone?"  
Russell teared his eyes away from the shiny threads and his gaze settled on the man's blue eyes, and he nodded. The man sighed with a troubled expression.  
"Oh, buddy... you shouldn't be hanging out so lonely.  
You look like you'd enjoy some company. I'm Tabasa, the zookeeper here...  
I was gonna go get some more food for the zebras.  
...Wanna come with me? "

Russell considered the offer for a short moment, and he nodded again. It could be interesting to see how the zookeeper fed the animals.  
The man gestured for the boy to follow him. "Okay, let's go. What's your name? How old are you anyways....? You seem pretty young to be coming here by yourself...."  
Russell answered in a low voice, with the least words he could manage. He didn't feel like talking too much. The state of his home still lingered at the back of his mind, and he didn't feel very good about it.  
The zookeeper smiled: "...Huh. Russell then... I thought you were younger than 13, though. Well, what do you think of the zoo? Pretty good place, right?"  
Russell nodded once again.  
"Don't hesitate to ask me anything. ...As you can guess, I know a lot about the animals here. I raise a bunch of the animals at the zoo... sometimes I even take in wild animals living around town."

They walked some more, down the paved paths, until they reached a rectangular grey building. The zookeeper pulled out his keys with a jangle and turned a key in the lock, then pulled the door open and stepped in the room.  
Russell curiously looked inside before following the man, taking in the cages of monkeys, the papers littering the floor and those falling off the desk with the gusts of wind.  
"Yeah, this is my room. Shut the door behind you," said the zookeeper as he lazily flicks his hand towards the flying papers. "I don't wanna pick all of those up."  
Russell did as told while telling the man that he should be a bit more organized, in that case.  
"...Yeah... You're probably right," answered the other with an expression that clearly indicated he wasn't ready to give up his languid ways any time soon.  
The monkeys started screeching as the zookeeper neared their pens, and Russell stepped over to the desk to get a better look at the papers: detailed data on the animals' health, division of feed... Nothing he really cared for, but it was probably important.

The man clicked his tongue.  
"...Oh, yeah. Sorry guys. Forgot about your food for a moment there.  
...Just wait a bit.  
Wouldn't be good if you fell even sicker..."  
The zookeeper walked to the side of the room, setting down the pail he was holding, and rummaged through the cardboards in the corner.

Russell stopped gazing at the papers and walked towards the cages, stopping a few steps away from the first one. He stared at the monkeys without a word, their screeching starting to become dissonant in his ears. It made him think of his dad.  
The ridiculous gesticulations.  
The senseless shrieking.  
The grotesque love-making.  
Disgusting.  
_He should die._

The zookeeper straightened and stepped away from the boxes, holding bags of apples, carrots, eggplants and cucumbers.  
"...Hey, Russell. Care to help me?"  
The boy looked up at the man. No, he didn't care for that. He didn't want to get close to those loud creatures.  
The zookeeper shrugged nonchalantly when he didn't answer. "Suit yourself..."  
He then squatted and started shaking the food out of the bags, dumping the vegetables and fruits in the cages.

In that moment, Russell felt something invade him. An emotion.  
The zookeeper was nice with him. He was much older, but his eyes weren't cold like all the others. He smiled at Russell, and spoke to him normally.  
The zookeeper asked Russell what he wanted to do.  
The zookeeper didn't care that Russell didn't answer, it didn't make him act any different.  
Russell wondered if that was what having an older brother felt like.  
An older brother... He would never get an older brother. His mother didn't want to give him one, he was alone in his family. If he could even call what they were a family.  
He'd never have a big brother. He'd never know what it was like to have a real big brother.  
The zookeeper could never become that.

Russell looked to the side, his gaze latching onto one of the iron pipes laying across the ground, next to a pile of cardboards.  
There was something bitter and heavy in his heart. And the monkeys, they kept screeching. He didn't like this.  
He took a step towards the pipe, his small fingers silently wrapping around the cold piece of metal.  
He had to stop everything. Something was wrong.  
The monkeys, the monkeys screeched.  
It was the zookeeper's fault.

The monkey's screams became louder as he neared the zookeeper. His steps were quiet, his face was set. The man's back was still turned.  
Russell stopped behind him.  
The monkeys started jumping, their shrill screams piercing Russell's ears.  
The zookeeper spoke to the monkeys. "Hey, hey, calm down! What's the matter, guys?"  
Russell raised the pipe above his head, his eyes trained on the back of the man's head.  
The zookeeper's head turned as he started talking to the boy. "Hey, Russ-"  
He saw the boy standing right behind him, the cold glint of metal. His eyes widened. His lips moved.  
"What-"  
Russell violently swung the pipe down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin.  
> Hope my writing is doing justice to Segawa's characters.  
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	3. Broken Bones

The moment the pipe started moving through the air, Russell knew he'd miss his target. The zookeeper reacted as soon as he saw the threat, and the pipe didn't connect with the dull thud Russell was expecting, but with a loud snap.  
He didn't know where the pipe had hit the man, but he'd swung hard enough to wound him nonetheless.

Tabasa violently hit the floor with the force of the blow, pain exploding in his forearm. He'd blocked the blow by raising his arms over his head, but there was no doubt something had been broken. He immediately struggled to his feet, and fortunately the blonde boy stayed standing where he was, not making another move, as opposed to what the man had feared.  
The zookeeper took a step back, breathing heavily, wincing as he held his arm against his chest.  
"Ow, ow, ow... What the heck is _wrong_ with you?"

The boy looked at him, not letting go of the pipe. He wasn't saying anything.  
Tabasa didn't dare move, afraid to set him off again. The boy was blocking the exit, so he couldn't get out of here, and his arm was extremely painful. He was used to getting injured, bites from the animals, cuts and bumps from his own clumsiness, heck, he'd once broken a toe because he'd dropped something on his foot- but he'd never been attacked by someone. He didn't know what to do. He only knew he had to get away from the boy.

"Put that thing down, Russell."

The boy's dull eyes switched from Tabasa's face to the pipe he was holding. After a short moment, he let go of the pipe, and it landed on the ground with a loud clang which made Tabasa flinch, pain shooting through his arm again. The zookeeper waited for Russell to move, to talk, anything. Nothing happened.

"...Russell.  
Just... Please let me go.  
......  
Whatever I did, I'm sorry."

The boy lowered his head, looking at his hands. Then he looked back at Tabasa, and the zookeeper thought he saw something in his blue eyes, but he wasn't sure.  
The the boy whipped around and ran out of the room, his running footsteps fading away, and Tabasa was left alone in the room cradling his broken arm. Just like that.  
The monkeys kept screeching in their cages, excited by the commotion, but he didn't have the time to reassure them. He really had to get to a hospital to get his arm fixed as fast as possible, injuries like this were a real danger to keeping his job.

He hurriedly walked to his desk and took the phone off the hook to call a friend, since he couldn't drive to the hospital by himself, and when that was done he put the phone back and sat down on the deskchair. He laboriously pulled back his sleeve to check his injury, and he winced when he saw the dark spot there. It had already spread across his forearm to form a bruise that was a good ten centimeters long, and it hurt just as much as it seemed to.

His eyes landed on the abandoned pipe laying on the floor and he shivered.  
_What the heck was that?_  
Why had the boy attacked him? What had he done do deserve that?  
What disturbed Tabasa the most was that Russell hadn't originally aimed at his arm. He'd tried to hit him across the head, and his eyes had been unwavering and-  
They hadn't been emotionless. No, Tabasa was sure of it, the boy hadn't been totally unfazed when he'd done that, he'd looked... sad. Or angry maybe. As good as Tabasa was at reading animals' feelings, humans' were a bit too complicated for him.  
Nothing explained why the boy had done such a thing. Tabasa was pretty sure he could've died from such a blow if it had indeed hit its target.

He averted his eyes from the pipe and hunched over in an attempt to ease his pain. Something had driven the boy to do this, and he didn't know how that was possible. He was sure he hadn't done anything wrong. He didn't know the boy from before, he'd never talked to him, so he didn't think the boy had anything to reproach him.  
The more he thought about it, the less it made sense.  
Part of him wanted to understand, but the other part never wanted to see the boy again. The kid was crazy, and Tabasa wasn't a fan of crazy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin.  
> Thanks a lot for the kudos and especially the comments, I was really happy to see that you guys enjoy this story! I hope it will continue to be the case even as the story strays from the original plot.  
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	4. Running from Problems, Don't Do Drugs

Russell ran.  
He ran and ran, past the tigers, past the birdhouse, past the giraffes, past the main gate, out in the street. He didn't stop to think. He just knew he had to get out of the zoo.  
He ran a long time, and his feet carried him to Chris' neighbourhood. When he realized that, he stopped running and stood where he was, catching his breath in irregular gasps and pants.  
He looked around to see if anyone found him suspicious, but the people in the streets ignored him and walked right on by. He hurried to the side of the road to sit on the edge of the sidewalk.  
Then he put his head in his hands.

He could've killed that zookeeper. He could've, but he'd missed his chance, and now he didn't know what to do.

Those damn monkeys. He could still hear them screeching in his ears. They were so annoying, so annoying. So damn annoying.  
Like him. Dad.  
That disgusting human being.

Russell pressed his hands to his face. No, no. That wasn't the problem.  
The monkeys had made his insides blaze with fire.  
And then that zookeeper had made his chest feel small and bitter.  
But which was it that had made him want to kill?  
Russell wasn't sure. The only thing he knew was that killing had come to him very easily. Holding that piece of metal had felt natural. Lifting it above his head, swinging it down... Simple.  
And his heartbeat hadn't changed its pace. Not once. He'd been very calm about it.

The zookeeper had looked pained, and shocked by Russell's sudden course of action, but that wasn't what bothered Russell. What bothered him was that the man had been nice to him. He didn't quite like that, because he didn't understand why the man had been nice to him, and he didn't understand what it was that the man's kindness had elicited in him. He'd felt his heart flutter, and it hadn't felt bad, but it was unknown to Russell and he disliked what he didn't know.  
Maybe that was why he'd ran away. Making the zookeeper disappear hadn't worked, so he'd ran away from the the problem.  
However, Russell would've liked a more permanent solution to it than just running away. The zookeeper was still there. He could still make Russell feel that... thing he'd felt, if they met again.  
Things he didn't understand, things he didn't know, he wanted those to disappear. The only way to make things disappear was to have them die. He knew.

Things were easy to wipe out of existence. They bled red on white fur, and then their breathing slowly ceased, and after that they would stop moving. They wouldn't make any noise. They would stop existing, just like that.

He could've made that zookeeper disappear, and that way he wouldn't have felt that flutter in his chest anymore. His mind would've gone back to its smooth surfaced state, no wind, no waves.The usual.  
But he hadn't killed the zookeeper.

Russell knew that what he'd done was bad.  
School had taught him that hurting others was the worst. The teacher said hurting others made you feel bad afterwards... supposedly. Russell didn't know what that bad feeling actually was like, although he did know its name: guilt. Shame.  
Russell never felt ashamed by his actions, even the criminal ones. He knew what he did with Chris to earn money could hurt others, but he didn't quite care. He'd seen Chris wearing a worried expression sometimes when they talked about the drugs, and that his friend didn't understand how it came so easy to him to be a dealer, how he was never perturbed by the kind of people they met. Chris himself was used to it, but when he'd started he'd been a bit disturbed by it all. Russell knew that he should've felt something wrong, anything, but he never had. Maybe he was supposed to feel bad when he saw a person lying on the cold ground, foaming at the mouth with sallow cheeks and grey skin, hysterically laughing to themselves alone; maybe he was supposed to feel "guilty" when he told himself that he was the cause of this in some way. But he didn't. He didn't care. He didn't care at all.  
Chris would always smile at that and would tell him that he was weird.  
Russell knew he was weird. He couldn't change that fact. Besides, dealing drugs helped Chris survive, and that was good, right? He'd heard that at school. Helping people was a good thing. Besides, Chris didn't seem to mind Russell's help. He was the first one to show Russell that side of the human mind to him, he was the one to give Russell a taste of insanity.  
Insanity in little pills. Bugs scurrying around, burying themselves in the folds of his brain. Bright yellow leaves against his eyelids, their nauseous glow. Aggressively flashy pink butterflies fluttering in the back of his eyeballs, hitting the tip of his fingers from the inside.  
Russell hadn't liked the pills. He'd settled for selling them instead. It made him and Chris some money to live on.

Even if Russell never felt for others, he did feel at times. Anger. Disgust. Jealousy. Sadness. Longing. He knew each name and what feeling to associate to those words, he knew they were considered like bad emotions, harmful emotions, but to him... They were just emotions. They were his emotions. And most of the time, he didn't know what to do with them, because he didn't really understand them. In fact, there were times where he didn't quite understand even his own self. It all made him lost in his own mind to think about it, so he preferred not to. It was better to ignore everything.

Russell lowered his hands, and looked to the side. His finger started drawing circles on the gritty sidewalk while he thought about the zookeeper. What should he do about the zookeeper?  
Maybe he had to apologize to him. That was what people did after hurting someone, wasn't it? He'd go apologize. And then... Well, he didn't know what would happen then. He'd avoid the monkeys, that was certain. He really didn't like them.  
Would he feel bitter again?  
Would the zookeeper talk to him?  
Would his chest flutter?  
Would he have to try again?  
All of those questions were swept away as soon as they had come. It wasn't necessary to wonder about that kind of thing now. The zookeeper would probably be gone from the zoo for a while, broken bones took a long time to mend. Russell knew.  
The zookeeper would undoubtedly come back, however. And when that time would come, Russell would go there to apologize. Whatever the outcome then...  
Russell didn't care.  
He didn't care at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin.  
> Here are Russell's thoughts. I'd really like it if you guys could tell me if this chapter sounds in character! One of you was wondering how Tabasa would explain his broken arm to the doctor, so I'm wondering if I should write out a chapter about how Tabasa interacts with people other than Russell, so with the doctor and his friend. I originally didn't intend to. What do you think?  
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	5. We meet again

It took Tabasa's arm three months to mend. When he'd explained the fracture to his doctor, he hadn't wanted to say what happened, so he'd made up some story about getting his arm crushed under a dropped crate. Although the doctor hadn't seemed very convinced, probably because of where the fracture was located and because of its shape, he hadn't tried to go any further. After all, he was used to seeing Tabasa come here with all sorts of cuts and bruises.  
It hadn't been easy living with a broken arm, and it had been hard on Tabasa to be unable to work. He was worried about his animals, about the fact that someone else was looking after them. He also had nightmares sometimes, a figure standing behind him as he slept, but when he'd wake up no one would be there. The nightmares didn't stay too long, thankfully, but he was still a bit twitchy.  
Tabasa saw Russell again four days after he came back to the zoo.

He was cleaning out the wet straw from the rabbit pens in the children's farm when he heard footsteps coming to a stop behind him. He immediately whipped around, a reflex he'd seemed to have acquired since the attack and that had yet to disappear, as his nerves were still frayed from the brutal experience.  
His gaze landed on a blonde head and he took an involuntary step back when he recognized the boy.

Russell was staring at him with dull blue eyes, and this time he was wearing a dark parka over his red vest. Tabasa noticed he was still wearing the same shorts as last time despite the bad weather. The boy didn't seem to mind the cold, however.

Tabasa didn't know how to react, and Russell wasn't speaking.  
The zookeeper noticed other things as they both stood face to face without a word: there were stains on the parka, and it seemed teared in places. The boy seemed indifferent, but Tabasa could make out a dark shape around one of his wrists, the one that was shoved in the pocket of his jacket and slightly uncovered by the shortness of his sleeves. He wasn't sure what to make of it.

Then the boy suddenly spoke, and Tabasa nearly jumped out of his skin.  
It took him a while to calm himself and understand that the boy had just told him that he was sorry.  
He wasn't sure what to make of that either.  
He stared at the boy wearily, unconsciously bringing his arm to his chest. At least this time there weren't any iron pipes laying around.  
"...You..."  
He stopped. He didn't know what to say exactly.  
"...Russell, right?"  
The boy nodded, and Tabasa continued.  
"... I... Why did you come here to apologize?  
... What do you expect me to say?"

The boy looked to the side, but he didn't seem guilty. He just had a pensive look on his face.  
Then he looked back at Tabasa.  
He knew he'd done something bad. That's why he was apologizing.

Tabasa stared at the boy in disbelief.  
"... Well, that was pretty bad, yeah.  
... I don't even know why you did that to me.  
What'd you have to do that for?"  
He knew full well he looked deathly afraid of the boy and that it probably looked ridiculous to an outsider for a man his age to be afraid of a 13-year-old boy, but he didn't want to let his guard down around Russell.

This time the boy's expression shifted slightly. It was there again, the look. The same strange look as last time.  
Because Tabasa, the boy muttered, because Tabasa... made him...  
The boy stopped there. It looked like he either couldn't find the right words, either knew Tabasa wouldn't understand.

Indeed, Tabasa didn't understand.  
"I made you... what, what did I make you?"

The boy looked away.

"...Did someone tell you to hurt me?  
Were you threatened or something?"

The boy shook his head.  
No. He just wanted a brother... maybe. Not really.  
The boy stopped talking abruptly, like he knew he wasn't making any sense.

Tabasa was starting to wonder if this boy was indeed crazy, just as he'd originally thought after the attack. Of course he couldn't be his brother, they barely knew each other! And what kind of reason was that, hurting someone because he wanted a brother?  
The man shook his head, clearing up his thoughts. Right now that wasn't the most important, there was something that had been bugging him ever since then and he had to ask.

"Russell... There's something that's been really bothering me...  
It's been bothering me a whole lot.  
.....  
Did you... want to kill me back then?"  
Tabasa waited for Russell's answer. The boy was staring straight at him, but he wasn't saying anything. He wasn't denying it. That was enough for Tabasa to understand- Russell had indeed tried to kill him. He'd expected this outcome.

"Why would you do that?  
... Why would you want to kill me?  
... What... What did I do to you?"

The boy looked down at his shoes.  
Nothing. Tabasa had done nothing wrong, really. But the monkeys...  
"The monkeys?" said the zookeeper with a furrowed brow. "What do you mean the monkeys?"  
Russell rubbed his wrist, and he didn't seem to notice he was doing it.  
The monkeys were too loud.

The zookeeper was troubled. The boy definitely wasn't right in the head.  
"... Russell."  
The boy looked at him again, and Tabasa breathed in deeply before asking:  
"Are you planning on hurting me again?"

The boy didn't answer that either.  
Tabasa lowered his arm from his chest and took a step towards the boy. When Russell didn't move, he took another step, his body tense and poised to run each time he stopped moving, if ever the boy tried anything strange.  
However Russell never moved, and soon the zookeeper was right in front of the boy. Russell's head was tilted back, his eyes never leaving Tabasa's, and the man kneeled down and took hold of his shoulder.

"Listen, Russell... I'd rather you not kill me.  
.... I think that's pretty understandable.  
Could there be a way to make you feel any differently towards me?"  
The zookeeper knew what he was doing was crazy, very probably pointless, that his words weren't reaching the boy the way they normally should've for another person. He didn't really know why he was talking about getting killed in such an easy manner, or how he even had the courage to be this close to the boy, but somehow he felt like he needed to do something to get the boy to act normally. 

The boy stayed silent, his gaze riveted on Tabasa's face.  
The zookeeper searched Russell's eyes for any change, but the boy's eyes were as dull as usual. Maybe that was part of why the zookeeper wanted to have Russell act normally: he didn't like talking with someone who had such an empty, uncaring gaze, someone who was there but not quite. Tabasa had a feeling something was awfully wrong with the boy, and it wasn't just about himself. This boy was a threat to others as well.

"Do your parents live around here?"

Something flickered in Russell's gaze at the mention of his parents and he jerked away from Tabasa's hold on his shoulders. The zookeeper's hands flew up right away and he stumbled back, showing Russell he didn't mean to harm him in any way.  
The boy stilled, silently looking at the ground.  
Yes, his parents lived near here.

Tabasa lowered his hands to his sides.  
"I think... I should talk to them."

Russell shook his head.  
No.

"Why?"

There was no reason. He couldn't talk to them, and that was it.

"Russell, I could've gone to the police.  
...But I didn't do it.  
Do you know why...?"

The boy shook his head, still refusing any kind of eye contact with the zookeeper.

"Because I didn't want to cause anyone trouble.  
... I don't like causing trouble.  
...And because I wanted to talk to you normally if I had the chance..."

Russell didn't move and Tabasa sighed, his hand brushing through his black hair.  
"...I really don't want to die if I can help it.  
Would it make you feel any better if I... Well...  
I can't become your brother, of course, but I can be like one.  
If... That helps."

Russell lifted his head up and stared at the zookeeper.  
He didn't know if that would work.

"... What do you mean, you don't know?  
Isn't this a decision you should be able to make?"

Not this.

"Russell, you have to understand...  
If I were anyone else, you'd be in a police office right now.  
... I don't...  
I don't want you to kill me, to kill anyone.  
...  
I don't want a boy your age to end up in jail.  
... You know that, right?  
That if you kill someone, even at your age... You might be sentenced to death...?"

The boy shrugged.  
He didn't care.

"... I care.  
I won't deny you scare me, Russell.  
But I don't want you to hurt anyone.  
... Don't you have friends?"

One.

"Can't I be a friend as well?"

Russell shook his head. He didn't understand. He didn't understand Tabasa. He didn't understand what it was, what Tabasa was doing. What he was asking of him.  
Why was Tabasa asking him this?

"I just...  
.....  
... I just think you need help, Russell.  
Something... There's something going on with you."

No. He didn't need help. He just needed Tabasa to go away.

"Look, Russell, I work here.  
I can't go away.  
... I know you don't like monkeys, but you seem to like the other animals.  
What's your favourite animal?"

Russell seemed taken aback by the sudden change of subject, and he didn't answer.

"To tell you the truth, monkeys aren't exactly my thing either."

Then why feed them, asked the boy. What was the point in feeding animals he didn't like?

"... I can't exactly let them die.  
Even if they're not my favourite, they still depend on me.  
Have you... never had a pet before?"

Russell nodded, his eyes drifting to the rabbit pens. He had had one, a pet rabbit. But... he...  
The boy wiped his runny nose with his sleeved arm.  
He'd died. Run over.

"Oh... Poor rabbit...  
It's always sad when a pet dies.  
Especially... when it's not supposed to."  
It was getting cold, standing here, not doing anything except talking. Tabasa shivered and rubbed his hands together to warm them up. He'd forgotten his gloves on his desk.  
"I know how bad it feels, you know.  
I had a cat. A female. She had a litter.  
... One of the kittens died the same way your pet rabbit did.  
.... I couldn't do anything."  
Tabasa could see he'd caught Russell's interest with his story.  
"I wish I could've stopped the car.  
... I wish I could've picked up that kitten before it walked out of the house.  
I couldn't even say it wasn't my fault, since I'm the one who opened the door and went outside without closing it.  
I still feel sad when I think about it, even if it was years ago."

Russell wiped his nose again.  
He didn't miss his pet rabbit. It was dead. There was no point in missing a dead thing.

"But you still cared for it when it was alive, didn't you?  
It needed you to survive...  
It lived its life thanks to you.  
... I think that if you really didn't miss it, you wouldn't have told me that it died like that."

The boy's expression didn't change.  
No, he didn't miss that pet rabbit.

"...Russell."

...

"Have you already tried to kill people before me?"

... No.

Tabasa studied Russell's face. It was pointless, since Russell's face was set in its usual neutral expression, and the zookeeper knew he didn't really need to look for any signs of a lie. The boy seemed to know what was considered right and what was considered wrong. He only lied by not answering, when he knew that the answer would be considered wrong.  
That meant that when he did answer, he was probably telling the truth.

If he'd never killed anyone before, something must've set him off last time.  
... Had it really been the monkeys? But why?  
At any rate, if Russell hadn't killed anybody yet, there was still hope for him.

"... I want to know exactly why you felt the need to kill me last time.  
Me not being your brother isn't enough of an explanation.  
There must've been a reason."

Russell shoved his hands further into his pockets, but didn't speak.

"You can tell me.  
... Even if you think I won't understand, I'll at least try."

Russell seemed to hesitate. His eyes briefly darted towards the rabbit pens, then back at Tabasa.  
His face was pensive, and then he opened his mouth to tell Tabasa that he'd felt something. He'd felt something when Tabasa had talked to him. He didn't know what it was. And it was what he'd felt but didn't know that had made him act like that. Maybe. He wasn't sure.

The zookeeper nodded slowly, and spoke again after a short time of thinking.  
"... I think...  
We should try to talk more. Without you wanting to kill me.  
Is your friend nice with you?"

Russell's shoulders jumped slightly, in a faint semblance of a shrug.  
Yeah.

"Have you known each other for a long time?"

Years.

"... I'd like to learn to know you.  
To talk with you, more than this.  
... I won't lie to you, I'm going to be very cautious around you from now on.  
... But I think... Maybe, if you're okay with this, we could get to know each other."

Russell didn't answer.

"... I'd like to trust you, but...  
You're not really giving me any reason to.  
... Do you think you'd like to talk with me despite that?  
... You seemed to like my proposal to feed the zebras last time."

Russell didn't know.

"If it weren't for the monkeys, do you think you...  
Do you think you wouldn't have wanted to kill me?"

The boy didn't know that either.

Tabasa sighed. Talking with Russell was exhausting.  
"... I think it would be good if you had someone other than your one friend.  
What's his name?"

Chris.

"How old is he?"

Around the same age.

"... I see.  
Would you... Maybe, like to give me a chance as well?"

He didn't know.

".....  
... Do you feel like killing me?"

Well... not now.

"Did you feel like it at one moment in our conversation?"

No, but he'd thought about it before.

"Oh."  
Tabasa felt a shiver travel up his spine, and he didn't know if it was because of the cold this time.

Russell spoke again: but he hadn't done it. He hadn't killed Tabasa.

"... Well, yes. I can see that.  
... Why didn't you?"

Russell gazed at one of the rabbits inside the pen. The white one, noticed Tabasa, the one kids liked to call Snowball. The one that was a bit fat and didn't do much except twitch its nose and eat.  
Russell said in his monotone voice that he and Tabasa had been talking, so he'd thought about something else.

"... Okay."

Tabasa and Russell then both fell silent.  
The zookeeper didn't know if he still felt frightened, or concerned, or worried. Maybe it was the three at the same time.  
He didn't know what to say anymore. The only thing he knew was that Russell needed some kind of psychological help, that the boy seemed to have problems with how to handle himself, with how he viewed things.  
However, if he was able to have a friend, and feel interest towards some things, and hold a conversation, and know what was right and what was wrong, then maybe Tabasa could help him. Of course, the zookeeper wasn't a specialist in the domain, but he'd always felt the need to care for others, it wasn't just about animals. He felt like he could help this boy be better.  
Maybe it was suicidal- no, it certainly was.  
But he couldn't just leave the kid be, not like this. He couldn't drag the boy to a therapist, he couldn't talk to the boy's parents, but he could at least try to get the boy to communicate with him.

Tabasa noticed the boy turning to walk away, probably because of the tense silence between them, so he called out to him.  
"Hey, Russell, wait...!"  
The boy didn't stop.  
"Are you coming back then...?"  
The boy didn't answer.  
"You know where to find me!  
...Just...  
Don't go near the monkeys.... and..."  
The boy just walked away without turning around, and Tabasa's words faltered.

The zookeeper didn't try to catch up to the boy and watched him leave, crossing his arms in the slowly darkening evening until the boy was out of sight. Then he hurriedly turned back to the rabbit pens and reopened the pen to tuck in the clean, dry straw, talking to them with a reassuring voice. They looked a bit unnerved, no doubt because of the uncomfortable atmosphere he and Russell had got going.  
Tabasa didn't have a watch, but he knew his shift was almost over, and talking with Russell had taken up a considerable amount of time. Luckily for him, he was fast in his work so he'd been a bit early in his schedule, which meant he hadn't accumulated too many tasks that were still due before the end of the day.

The zookeeper sighed.  
He'd probably gotten himself in quite a mess, but it wasn't like Russell had given him much choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin.  
> I ended up choosing not to write a whole chapter about the doctor and the friend, as it felt too forced. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this longer chapter!  
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	6. Chris, Returning to the zoo

"The guy wants to be your friend? That's kinda weird." 

Russell didn't answer, so Chris continued. "I mean, are you gonna go back there? Talk to that zookeeper again?"  
He paused, and muttered to himself. "Then again, you do like animals... So I kinda get why the guy could be your friend after all."  
Then he straightened and looked Russell in the eye. "Still find it suspicious, though, I mean it ain't like he got a reason for being your pal. You should be careful."

The two boys were sitting in Chris' dreary little room. There were only the two of them there, since his mom wasn't home.

Russell remained silent.  
He hadn't felt like killing the man this time. Maybe it really had been because of the monkeys the first time. Or maybe it was because he hadn't felt anything this time. The zookeeper had suggested to act like a brother, but Russell didn't know what to make of the man's proposition. He was sure that people who'd been hurt by someone weren't supposed to act like this with the one who'd hurt them.  
He still felt the same apprehension towards the strange feelings it elicited in him to talk with the zookeeper. When the man spoke to him with his nice voice, looked him in the eye with a sincere face, to tell him that he wanted to get to know Russell... It made the boy feel... light. It wasn't bad, yet he felt scared of it, and he still didn't understand why the zookeeper would want to know anything about him.  
No one cared for Russell except for Chris, and that was only because they handled the bad things in their life with the same indifference: in some way, they understood each other. Besides that, they had some kind of unspoken deal: Russell helped Chris make some money, and in exchange Chris gave him a place to hide out.  
Other than Chris, no one tried to know Russell. The people Russell lived with, the people he encountered every day, they either didn't pay attention to him because of his quiet personality, either treated him with spite and even hate. It was normal for the boy. It was his everyday life.  
So it disturbed him to the extreme that another person would care about him like this.

The zookeeper was an adult.  
Russell didn't like adults. They kept repeating the same things over and over, and had a very strict vision of the world, and when someone didn't agree with them they would get disproportionately angry. They always thought they were better than him. In a way, they were, since they were stronger and rougher than him.  
They were filthy. They were twisted. They were manipulative. They were hypocrites.  
He disliked them. Most of the time, he stared at them with the same spite that they felt for him. Sometimes, it would get him in the trouble.  
He never cared.

The zookeeper seemed a bit different.  
Russell had managed to hurt him, which made the man weaker than the usual adult in the boy's mind. Tabasa's eyes showed no spite, just fright, sincerity and something else that the boy hadn't been able to identify. No one gave him that kind of look, usually. It didn't seem harmful, though.  
And then there was the fact that Tabasa was a zookeeper. He liked animals, as did Russell. The boy had seen his expression when he was tending to the monkeys and the rabbits, and it was an expression Russell adults usually didn't show him. It was like the man was petting the rabbits with his gaze, the boy didn't know how to describe it any other way.

The zookeeper seemed a bit better than the other adults, but Russell knew that Chris was right. He looked over at his friend and nodded. He knew he had to be careful.

Chris gazed at him attentively.  
"What even happened with 'im? I don' get how you guys talked in the first place, ain't like you're the social type."

Russell shrugged.  
The zookeeper was the one to approach him. They talked about animals, went to feed them. That's it.

Chris frowned.  
"He's the one who talked to you first? Really, man, you need to watch out. How old is he?"

About twenty, Russell guessed.

"Oh, so he's still pretty young then. Not like that other creepy guy.... Remember the dude with the candy? Still, don't get yourself in any- Jus' watch out."

Russell nodded again.  
He knew all that.

For some reason, he still ended up going back to the zoo two days later. It didn't take long for him to find the zookeeper, who was standing in a paddock, behind some metal wiring. He felt strangely attracted to the green hooded coat, and he didn't hesitate when he walked up to the man and spoke his name.

Tabasa whirled around, a surprised expression on his face. He seemed a bit frightened, but this time the expression didn't stay for long. It vanished when he smiled at the boy.  
"Oh, Russell...!  
You came back."

Russell nodded quietly, then looked over at the animal Tabasa was tending to.  
Bat-eared fox.  
Geographical range: Eastern and Southern Africa  
Habitat: Dry grasslands  
Scientific name: Otocyon megalotis

"I'm almost done with these little guys.  
...Wait just a bit."

Tabasa finished emptying the contents of his bucket to the side. Russell couldn't see what was in it very well, but when it splashed to the ground and over the man's boots he could see it was a brownish color. The man shook it clean, then made sure the door behind him was well closed before he opened the paddock's door and stepped out.  
Russell asked him what he was doing.  
Tabasa looked at him and showed him the empty bucket.  
"Oh, I just finished feeding them...  
I was cleaning out the bucket just now.  
By the way, Russell... You really need to stop sneaking up on me like that.  
I might end up getting a heart attack."

Russell flatly apologized, and Tabasa looked away with a nervous twitch of the lips.  
"I can't tell if you're being sincere or not.  
...But I'll just believe that you are."

Russell didn't answer.  
He didn't know what to add.

"So, Russell..."  
Tabasa started walking along the inclosure, and the boy followed.  
"Is there something you want to talk about with me?"

Russell thought to himself for a bit, then shrugged.  
Not really.

"...Oh.  
Did you come here to see me or is it just to see the animals?  
I mean, you came here for something, didn't you...?"

Russell didn't answer. He just kept following the man.

"...Russell, you're making me nervous.  
Just say something..."

Russell looked up at the man, and realized that Tabasa's eyes seemed worried. Maybe the man was still scared of him.  
The boy asked him if it was the case.

Tabasa looked away, avoiding the boy's gaze.  
"Well..."

Russell waited for a continuation, but Tabasa fell silent. He looked fidgety.  
The boy didn't know what to feel. He found it strange that an adult would be frightened of him, even if he knew that what he'd done to Tabasa justified this kind of anxious behaviour. He didn't feel like hurting Tabasa anymore, not at all. He wondered if it had been a one-time thing, that time when he'd felt like he had to kill. He'd never felt it before, and he didn't feel it anymore.  
Russell looked up at Tabasa again. The man was watching him, and as soon as their eyes met Tabasa averted his gaze. Russell wasn't sure what to make of it exactly.  
He looked down at the ground and muttered that he was sorry.

"...Why are you apologizing?  
... It's okay if you don't want to talk, you know.  
Just tell me if you don't want to."

Russell didn't actually feel sorry, but... He had to say sorry to Tabasa. He wasn't sure why, but he felt like it was necessary to apologize to the man.  
Russell answered that he wasn't apologizing for that. 

"Oh.  
...I see."

They both fell silent, and they walked alongside until they reached the next cage.  
Russell stayed with Tabasa for four more inclosures, watching him care for his animals from the sidelines. They didn't talk much, but Tabasa seemed to relax a bit as time passed.  
When the zookeeper noticed Russell stepping away from the inclosure as if to leave, he called out.  
"Russell!"  
The boy stopped and turned around.  
"Come back whenever you want, all right?  
...And if you want to talk with me, you can."

Russell stared at him, and Tabasa thought he saw something show briefly through the dull facade of his blue eyes, but the moment was gone as fast as it came.  
The boy didn't answer, unsurprisingly, and turned on his heels to walk away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin.  
> Thanks for all the kudos, I'm so glad this story pleases you! I'll try keeping up the frequent updates (yes this is frequent for me), since, as of now, this is my most appreciated story with the most feedback from you all. Let's hope together for my inspiration to stay until the end, because that's the most likely bad thing to happen, for it to disappear early.  
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	7. Like a Pirate, The Chuch and The Siblings

And so Russell became used to seeing Tabasa at least twice a week.

Each time he left the zoo, telling himself it'd been a waste of time, there was always a nagging feeling at the back of his head, telling him: _but there's nothing wrong with coming here, why stay away?_  
It was pointless to go, sure: there was no real purpose to his trips to the zoo, no big end game, no results to them. But he liked going to see the zookeeper and his animals, and he quickly came to understand that it was because he felt more at peace there than in any other place.

He went there every Tuesday and Friday. There was a very simple reason for these choices: on Tuesdays school ended early, on Fridays he skipped PE. No one cared if he wasn't there to throw balls around or jump rope or do jumping jacks, and that was fine because he didn't care much for those activities. The PE teacher didn't even take the time to report him to his parents, because his parents had no interest in what he did or didn't do at school. The teachers had understood that pretty fast. Not that they cared.

He'd usually go to the zoo between 3 PM and 4 PM, depending on the day, and the precise time period during which Russell visited the zoo made it easier for both of them to find each other, since Tabasa's routine was always the same. At 3 PM, he'd be tending to the zebras, at 3:40 he'd reach the end of the Wild Lowlands, feeding the antelopes, and at 3:45 he'd be cleaning the rabbits' pens in Little Farm, so they became used to meeting up in those places. They never went near Tabasa's room or the monkeys, and Russell wondered quite a few times if it wasn't more for Tabasa than for himself. He knew the room and the monkeys would remind them both of the incident, and sometimes he also suspected that Tabasa didn't like going in those places because of him. He knew it was his fault, but he rarely thought about it: he really didn't care much.

It was a bit comforting to have plans over the week to go to the zoo, moreso than his schedule of dealing drugs and going to the church. He liked the animals at the zoo. He liked the fact that he could just watch the zookeeper work. He liked the fact that Tabasa didn't push him to talk. He liked that when he did talk, Tabasa listened to him. It was like talking to Chris, except that for some reason it felt more natural to talk about himself when he was with Tabasa, as if it were expected. Tabasa nodded and asked other questions about Russell, whereas Chris simply took what Russell gave him and never asked for more.  
Sometimes Russell asked himself things about Tabasa, but he wouldn't tell the zookeeper. He liked not knowing much about Tabasa, because that meant Russell didn't care about Tabasa. He didn't want to care for Tabasa.  
It would be a hassle to care about Tabasa.

There was one day where he didn't go.  
It had been because of his father.  
His father had been in a particularly foul mood that Tuesday, and usually he didn't care if Russell was there or not. In fact, he didn't mind it when Russell was gone for the night: he only noticed Russell's presence if he came back home late, and that was always a great excuse to hit him.  
His father usually didn't mind him not being at home, didn't mind him going out without saying where he went. But on that day, maybe something had gone wrong at work, maybe someone had made him angry, maybe his mother had refused to sleep with another man, maybe he'd realized how utterly pointless his life was; a lot of things could've gone wrong.  
On that day, Russell's father had been angry. He'd caught Russell stepping out, he'd asked him where he was going, and when Russell had answered he was going to see a friend, his father had exploded.

Maybe he'd realized he didn't have any friends.

Whatever had happened in the man's head, his hand had clenched around the beer bottle he'd been holding. Russell remembered it was half-full, because when the bottle had hit the wall, it had been smashed in pieces and he'd been partly covered in beer.  
Although his father had missed his target, Russell hadn't been very lucky and one piece of glass had flown in his direction. It had nearly caught him in the eye, and he remembered he'd been briefly terrified of losing part of his eyesight. There'd been blood in his eye. His vision had gotten blurry on one side.  
He'd ran out of the house and he hadn't really thought about where he was going, but his feet had lead him to Chris' house. Luckily, Chris' mother had been there. She'd brought him to the hospital when she'd seen how bad the injury looked, and despite her being poorer than his own parents, she'd been the one to pay the bill for the consultation. He'd promised to pay her back. She'd said he'd better.  
The whole ordeal had taken up too much time to be able to go to the zoo, so Russell hadn't gone that day. He'd ignored the nagging feeling at the back of his head that told him: _Tabasa won't even notice you weren't there._  
He hadn't paid attention to it, because he didn't care.

He'd gone Friday, as usual, except this time he had a bandage over his eye. The doctor had told him he'd been lucky, a tiny bit higher and his eye could've gone blind. Russell had wondered if his parents would've cared had he had only one eye left. He'd quickly come to the conclusion that they wouldn't have.

Chris had told him he looked like a badass. "Yarrrrr, matey!" he'd yelled then, with a goofy grin. Russ hadn't smiled, but he'd said thanks in a small, quiet voice, because he knew Chris was trying to make him forget what had actually happened. It was a nice thing to do, so thanks were what Russell had to give in return.

Russell hadn't been the one to find the zookeeper that time. Tabasa had found him first.  
"Russell!"  
He'd turned around, and Tabasa had stopped dead in his tracks.

"...Woah.  
What happened to your eye?"

Russell had said: nothing.  
He didn't feel like telling the zookeeper. Tabasa wasn't like Chris, so Russell didn't know how the man would react if he knew. Russell didn't want to know. Something told him it was better if he stayed quiet about the whole thing. It would be less of a hassle if the man didn't know.

Tabasa had frowned, connecting the dots in his head.  
"Is that why you didn't come on Tuesday...?"  
Then he'd stepped closer to Russell, the bags in his hands swaying with each step he took before he set them down at his sides and crouched in front of the boy.  
"...I was a bit worried."

Russell had undeniably felt something when he'd heard those words.  
_Tabasa was worried_.  
Then he'd pushed the thought away and nodded.  
Tabasa had gotten that look again, the one Russell didn't understand. Then the zookeeper had said:  
"...If you don't want to tell me what happened, that's okay.  
....But... are you all right...?"

Russell hadn't answered right away. Was he all right? He hadn't really wondered how he felt about this whole thing. He hadn't thought about if he was okay or not.  
Had he been lucky to keep both of his eyes? Should he have felt distressed over the pain of glass slicing his face? He'd felt scared of losing his eye, but he hadn't paid much attention to the pain. Now that he thought about it, it had been pretty painful.  
Then he'd looked up at the zookeeper and nodded. He was all right.  
After all, it was over now, wasn't it?

Tabasa hadn't looked convinced, and he'd stared at Russell's face for a bit longer before breathing in and turning away.  
Russell hadn't known what to make of it. He hadn't had to think about it long, however, because Tabasa had handed him carrots then.  
"...Let's go feed the rabbits in Little Farm. Okay?" he'd said, with a voice that meant he really wanted Russell to come feed the rabbits with him.  
Russell had accepted, not really sure why the zookeeper was so insistent about it. Tabasa had watched the boy take the carrots in his hands, and then had led him to the children's farm.  
Russell had spent a bit longer with Tabasa than he usually did that afternoon. He hadn't felt like leaving as early, and Tabasa hadn't said anything about it. When Russell had finally made a move to leave, Tabasa had grabbed the boy by the arm- gently, Russell had noticed- and told him to come back Tuesday like he normally did.  
Russell hadn't understood why it had seemed so important to Tabasa, but he'd said okay.  
Tabasa had let go of his arm, and Russell had felt a strange sensation of emptiness in his chest then.  
He hadn't known why.

That was the one time he felt something different than usual. It was like something had clicked inside of him.  
Of course, it didn't change anything for him. He kept on living his life, dealing drugs, going to school but mostly skipping class, going to church alone and praying.  
He liked going to church. It was calm there. It was nice.  
The church stood on the edge of town, painted a pure white that shone in the sun's rays. Vines traveled down its sides, with beautiful dark flowers scattered across them. However pretty the building was, there was just one thing Russell disliked there: the priest and the girl. Russell was pretty sure they were siblings, because they had the same brown hair and red eyes. They looked happy when they talked to each other, although the priest's face always wore the same sullen expression. Russell could see there was something between them that he usually thought he himself could never have with anyone, but hanging out with Tabasa had dulled this feeling. Russell felt less hate towards the both of the red-haired siblings now that he had Tabasa to talk to. Being friends with Chris just didn't feel as appeasing as being friends with Tabasa was, Russell had realized one day as he sat in the church, silently observing the chatting siblings. Chris' presence had never done anything for the feeling of hate Russell had for others, whereas Tabasa's...  
It was strange, yet at the same time, Russell felt lighter than he had ever had in years, so he didn't mind.

Despite feeling less anger than before, Russell still felt sadness whenever he saw the third member of the church: a brown-haired lady with red eyes. The lady seemed nice. When Russell watched her walk over to the siblings and speak to them, there seemed to be a warm, glowing aura around the three of them. The boy wondered if that was what a mother was supposed to be like.  
This feeling of sadness was something Russell only felt when he saw her, and it pulled at his heart each time, yet he couldn't stop coming here. He just couldn't stop. Sometimes he thought that the reason why he came here was because it was the only place where he felt things so intense, even if they felt bad, that it was a place where he came closest to what other people felt, to what "normal" people were like. He thought this place could help him understand what he was.  
In truth, it didn't help him to understand at all, but he still kept going to the church because he wanted to see the lady.  
He prayed, so that he could see her.  
He prayed, without believing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin.  
> I thought I'd introduce Cody and Dogma here, although they aren't the ones I'll be writing about in the next chapter. I don't think I've ever posted the chapters of one of my works so frequently before, I must be on a roll. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, although I have to say, I really felt like hugging Russell when I wrote this. Then again, his brain would probably be unable to compute a hug...  
> Also if you guys are interested, I drew Tabasa wrapped up in a blanket thanks to Ryuuta giving me the mental image of it. It's on DeviantArt, I use the same username. You know what, might as well give you the link (I know I would be too lazy to look for it): http://www.deviantart.com/art/Tabasa-in-a-blanket-End-Roll-661336189  
> Anyways, thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	8. Mother, Nightmares, The Nurse

Why was it exactly that Russell was so intent on seeing that woman?

She was something he would've liked to have: a loving mother.  
There was a time when Russell longed for his mother's tender touch, when he did everything and anything to please her. He never seemed to find the right words, the right thing to do, and she always pushed him away. When Russell had nightmares, no one was there to comfort him. No one was there to tell him everything would be fine, that he wasn't alone, no one was there to give him a cup of water and stroke his hair until he fell asleep again.

So Russell learned to cope with nightmares alone.

He still wished sometimes for his mother to give him a kiss or a hug, but whenever that happened, the mother he had in mind was not the one he knew now. It was the one that could've been; a mother that cared after him, that made him delicious meals, that told him how proud she was of him, that made sure he felt better if he was sad. The mother he had in mind wasn't the woman gasping in pleasure he could hear in the next room, wasn't the one that cried for more, wasn't the one having sex with a different man every time, with a man Russell never knew.  
It wasn't her.  
Yet Russell still wanted to be loved by his mother. It made his heart swelled and bruised, made it a bit hard to breathe. He really, really wanted to be loved by her, but he knew that it would never happen.

"You weren't born by choice."  
"You ruined my life."

His mom always said the same things.  
Russell didn't understand. Why was he still alive, then? Wasn't it stupid? If he wasn't loved, then why hadn't his mother killed him once he was born? It would've been so much easier.  
_At least kill me after my birth._  
_Why was I even born?_

Russell didn't care about his parents, in the sense that they didn't preoccupy him. He didn't know what "caring for family" felt like, and he'd probably never know. The only thing he knew was that he had to be careful around his father, that he had to avoid disturbing him, and that his mom never cared about him no matter what he did.

Russell had a home, but it was cold and inhospitable.

His parents always seemed to forget their bills. The pieces of paper were always hung up haphazardly on the kitchen wall, as if they weren't important. The refrigerator was big, the kind anyone would find for a family's use, but it was practically empty.  
The living room had a filthy sofa, a table covered in crumpled newspapers and empty beer bottles, dirty walls, the constant nauseous smell of beer and a TV that his father left on throughout the night whenever he slept there.  
There was the bathroom, which was messy and had a musty smell. Its shower was hidden behind a moldy curtain, and the sink had long lost its clean white color.  
Russell didn't have a room. The bathroom was the only place where he could have a tiny bit of privacy, and it was where he hid his diary, in a drawer no one besides himself ever opened. The diary was a part of him, it kept track of the variations of his self, of his soul, of his life, memories of his interactions with others, of what he had, of what used to be and what was now.

When his dad and mom weren't home, Russell played games. Games helped him forget everything as long as he was alone. It felt like he could just step out of his life and into these games. In the world of games, in the world of books... Whenever someone got killed, no one said anything, because that was just the way things were. No one got blamed, or punished, no one had to feel guilt or regrets.  
Russell often thought that if he could have a very long dream, he'd want to visit that kind of world.

Russell had recurring nightmares.

One of them was the death of his pet rabbit.  
This nightmare turned up a lot more often than it used to ever since Russell talked about his pet rabbit with Tabasa.  
The accident had already happened, each and every time he dreamt, and he could never save his pet rabbit. Every time he dreamt, he was kneeling in the middle of the road.  
Tire tracks. Dark asphalt. Red stains. A fleeing truck.  
He held the little ball of white fur in his hands, and blood kept pouring and pouring down the rabbit's fur, down his hands and arms, dripping on the ground. Russell didn't understand. Why was there so much blood? Was his rabbit okay? Was he?  
It hurt.  
Russell didn't cry. He didn't scream, or sob, or anything like that. He just watched in stunned silence as his rabbit's fur turned pink, then red.  
The color of blood was vivid against his rabbit's soft white fur. The warmth of its body was slowly ebbing away, and Russell could feel its life slipping through his fingers. He couldn't do anything about it, and could only watch as the rise and fall of his rabbit's small chest got slower and weaker. He couldn't do anything when his rabbit stopped breathing.  
_I'm sorry._  
He couldn't stop the blood from pooling around him.  
_I can't treat you dearly anymore._  
He couldn't stop his rabbit's small life from leaving his hands, a fleeting feeling he never forgot.  
The blood around the boy traveled across the road in a line, a red, red line, a line which Russell followed, his rabbit still in his arms. His boots made light splishing noises as he walked in the blood. He walked, and walked.  
There were people around him who looked at the bloody mess in his hands, a bloody mess that had once been a rabbit that lived, and ran in the grass, and ate vegetables from Russell's hand, whose whiskers would brush against Russell's skin and tickle him. The people whispered to themselves "poor thing", but they didn't stop walking, they didn't do anything, and they just stared at the lifeless corpse in Russell's hands like it was a dirty thing. That was when Russell learned that pity was just pretend.

Although nightmares made Russell feel bad, and despite how often they came, he could still sleep pretty well. They didn't disturb him in his everyday life, but he remembered them very distinctly.  
A more recent one was standing in the living room, in front of the door, and seeing a jagged piece of glass slowly flying towards his face without being able to move away. In that dream, Russell could only watch. He couldn't avoid it, his mouth couldn't open, he couldn't shout, but thankfully the nightmare always released him before the piece of glass reached his eye.  
Russell didn't have nice dreams. He only had nightmares. It seemed others usually had both, but he didn't. Maybe that was another sign that he wasn't normal.

Russell never spoke about his nightmares to anyone, even if he knew Tabasa was okay with talking about nightmares and other useless things. He just didn't feel like sharing that kind of thing.

There was another person Russell had met who cared for him, but he didn't do much talking with her. She was the one to make the conversation between the both of them, and he only needed to nod. She was a pretty nurse with vivid green eyes and light salmon-colored hair called Mireille. She was the timid kind of person around other adults, but with Russell she had a lesser tendency to stumble on her words, no doubt because she felt less put on the spot when she spoke to someone so young. He'd met her a long time ago, when he'd had to go to the hospital because his dad had hit him a bit too hard for him to heal on his own. She'd been kind and gentle, and ever since then he was used to going to the hospital in secret when he needed treatment. She was always there to give him band-aids, a cold compress or some antiseptic whenever he had a scratch or a bruise. He didn't understand how she could be so friendly with him while knowing so little, but he still came despite that. It wasn't like he was too disturbed to turn his back on free medical care, and besides he now felt like he was getting more and more used to interacting with her thanks to his relationship with Tabasa. He still found it weirder than anything else. She obviously cared a lot about one of her patients, a man to be more specific, yet she still cared after Russell. It was different from Tabasa. Whereas the zookeeper paid whole-hearted attention to Russell when they spoke to each other, the nurse always had her thoughts going out to the man. Her patient came around in their conversation no matter what they were talking about.  
Russell didn't understand the strong feelings she seemed to harbour for the man, and it scared him a bit. He didn't get how she could feel so attached to another person. Thankfully, she wouldn't get too carried away about him, but Russell still felt discomfort whenever he saw her eyes shine bright and her cheeks get rosy at the mention of the man. He often felt that discomfort morph into fear, but at that point he usually got out of there.

Although she used to be the person he did the most talking to after Chris, before he got to know Tabasa, he didn't say much about himself to her. Not as much as he did now with Tabasa. He didn't feel as much at ease with her as he did with the zookeeper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin.  
> Found some notes I wrote quite some time ago about Russell and I was like "Gee, I almost forgot to put that in" so here you go, more background for little Russ' character. Also Mireille got introduced, too, that was kind of an on the spur moment kind of thing. I wasn't supposed to write this chapter at first, I started writing it like an hour ago and now it's finished. Sorry for those who wanted Gardenia's chapter instead of this one, but hang on tight, it'll come one day.  
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	9. Gardenia, The Birthday Party

"Gardenia... It kinda rolls off the tongue, dunnit?"  
Russell shrugged, and Chris rolled his eyes.  
"Of course you don't give a shit. C'mon, don't tell me you don't think she's pretty."

Russell sighed. Okay, yeah, she was pretty, but he didn't get what Chris was making such a fuss about.

"Dude, have you ever even had a crush before?  
I bet that's why you don't get it. She's perfect!"

How so?

"Well, I mean, no one ever invites me to their birthday party.  
Not even you!"

Russell didn't answer. It was useless. He didn't need to justify himself.

"But she's so nice she invited me personally!"

Russell shrugged yet again. It wasn't like Chris had been the only one she'd talked to and invited. The blonde knew that the girl seemed to care individually for her classmates, but in the end the only reason he and Chris had been invited was because she'd had to invite everyone from her class to be equally kind to everyone. It didn't look like Chris understood that, however. He was up in cloud nine thinking about her.

"And she's always dressed nice, and her hair is so soft and pretty, and man, her eyes, they're so beautiful... And have you noticed how sweet her perfume is? She smells like strawberries, man, effin' strawberries!"

Russell stared at his friend, but he remained silent.  
Chris closed his mouth and looked back at him. After a small moment of silence, he spoke again.  
"I guess you haven't noticed, huh.  
Russ, do you ever even..."

The blonde's face wasn't moving, nor was he reacting in any way to Chris' question, but the boy stopped himself. He felt like asking what he was about to ask was pointless, and if he were to be honest with himself, he already knew the answer to his question: no, Russell didn't care about girls. Russell didn't care about anyone. Sometimes Chris suspected his friend didn't care about him either, but he wasn't too sure about that. He didn't want to think about it too much, since he spent a clear amount of his time with the blonde boy.  
"...Never mind.  
I'm really lookin' forward to that party.  
Heard her dad's really good at cooking and stuff, we're going to eat like kings!"

Russell closed his eyes.  
He'd heard that too, about Gardenia's father. Some children were lucky.  
If only he'd gotten a father like that, instead of...

"You tired?"

Chris' voice pulled him back to the present and he opened his eyes, his blue gaze landing on his friend's face. The other boy was staring at him curiously, still sitting on the side of the bed.  
Russell rubbed his eyes. A bit, he admitted.

"You know you can sleep here, if you can't get enough sleep over at your folks'."

It was fine, Russell assured his friend. He was okay.

Chris didn't look convinced.  
"...Whatever you say."

Russell pushed himself off the bed and stood up. He had to get going. It was getting late.

"Okay then. See you Saturday at Gardenia's," answered Chris.

Russell nodded and left his friend behind in the bedroom, bending down to grab his bag in the entry before leaving the house.

And so he arrived at Gardenia's house on Saturday with Chris by his side.  
The girl's house was huge and very clean, on the outside as much as on the inside. There were bright-coloured balloons on the white picket fence to point out that there was a party going on here, orange, pink and yellow, and the very same ones in the house as well, hanging from the corners of the ceiling. There were fairy lights in the hall, and paper garlands which said "Happy Birthday" stretched between the walls, and the air was saturated with the sweet smells of cake, candle wax and strawberries. Gardenia's father was there, and he welcomed them with a warm smile before guiding them to the living room, where Gardenia and the rest of the class were. The table there was covered in presents.

Russell's face didn't show it, but he despised it all.

Gardenia noticed them walking in the room and she got up to greet them as well. Her eyes sparkled with joy and excitement, and she wasn't fazed by Russell's lack of emotion. In fact, it seemed like she didn't notice at all, because she didn't linger on the blonde nor his friend. After saying hello to them both, she went back to her friends as quickly as she'd come, and Russell was left standing next to Chris. When he turned to the brunette, he noticed the pink tinge in Chris' cheeks and his seemingly stricken expression. He asked what was wrong.  
Chris looked at him.  
"Dude. Gardenia just talked to me."

Russell stared at him. He knew that.

"She talked to me, she said hi!"

Yes.

"Do you think she actually knows me?  
Like, remembers me from class?"

Russell shrugged.

"How cool would that be?  
Man, I can't wait to- Oh."

Chris stopped talking, staring at something behind Russell, and the blonde followed his gaze. He soon noticed one of the girls in the room giving them a look. It was a look both Russell and Chris knew very well. A look of spite.

Chris sighed.  
"Aw man, I forgot. I think one of her friends doesn't like me."

Russell turned back to him and asked why.

"I dunno. She just doesn't."

Russell looked at the girl again, who proceeded to ignore them. He knew her. She didn't like him either, and he knew why. The look she had was the same look her parents gave him when they came to pick up the girl from school, so Russell had quickly made the connection and understood that his parent's reputation had reached these adults' ears, and they'd told their daughter. For Chris, it wasn't about his parents; it was about himself. A lot of the teachers knew he often got taken in by the police for getting in trouble, and some of their classmates' parents probably did too.  
So it didn't help Russell that he was friends with Chris, because he got taken in as well. Not that he cared.

Russell shrugged and told Chris not to mind her.  
Chris let out a short laugh. "Yeah, you're right. She's kind of a bitch."

Then Russell told him that he was leaving him just for a moment.  
Chris nodded. "Sure. I'm just gonna stand around 'ere doing nothin', don't take too long."  
Russell walked out of the living room and went to find the restroom. He didn't want to ask anybody for directions, since he really didn't feel like talking to anyone, and as he looked for it he traveled through the house. It was a house that belonged to wealthy people. It was wide, and bright, decorated and spotless. There were some paintings hanging on the walls, and when he climbed up the stairs leading to the upper floor, he noticed a vase of fresh pink flowers sitting on a small table in the hall.  
It reminded him of the time he'd brought flowers for his mother, when he still tried to be loved by her. She'd ignored him, so he'd set them down on the kitchen table. When he'd returned, they were gone. He'd caught a glimpse of their petals in the trash later that day.  
Russell looked away from the vase. Flowers would've made his home look a bit better, but they wouldn't have lasted long. No one would have cared for them.

He finally found the restroom. Even this place was neat and tidy, and there were even some sprigs of lavender hanging from a ribbon next to the sink. It smelled surprisingly nice.  
So restrooms could be a nice spot, too. Who knew.  
The blonde quickly finished washing his hands, knowing that Chris was waiting for him downstairs and surely feeling very out of place without him. Then he stepped out of the restroom.  
And that's when he saw her.

Gardenia.

She was standing on the top of the stairs, gazing down at the empty hallway below, and Russell stopped dead in his tracks.  
Her white hair flowed down her back, and Russell was briefly reminded of Chris' words.  
_She's perfect_.  
Yes, she was perfect. A perfect little girl with a perfect little dress, pretty shoes, clear blue eyes, a perfect little girl in a perfect house with perfect parents having a perfect birthday.  
Russell's jaw clenched.  
Why couldn't he have such nice things?

A sudden thought crossed his mind: it was his birthday today too.  
But no one was celebrating it.  
No one was celebrating, no one cared, because no one knew.  
Russell was pretty sure his own parents had long forgotten the date of his own birthday.  
No one was baking him a warm, delicious cake, there were no strawberries or cream for him, no balloons, no cards, no gifts, no nothing.  
It was all for her. It was all for Gardenia, for this blessed little girl.  
A perfect, blessed little girl.  
An angel.

Russell's feet began moving again, but his steps were quiet.

All of the beautiful, colourful balloons, there never were any at home. All the gifts he'd seen piled up high on the table downstairs, there would never ever be so many for him. The sweet smell of a birthday cake, he'd never smell it at home. The smiles, the laughter he could hear from down below the stairs, there were never any at home.  
The happiness.  
The joy.  
Things he could never have, things he could never feel for himself.  
The look Gardenia's dad gave her.  
That look.  
A look no one ever gave Russell.

Why did Gardenia have all those things for her birthday, when he had nothing?  
Why was Gardenia allowed bliss, when he was not?  
What did she have that he didn't?

Couldn't she just disappear?  
Then, maybe...  
Russell just wanted her gone, her and all the things she possessed. He wanted her to stop reminding him that he'd never have this. He wanted a happy birthday too, why should she be the only one to have one?  
This angel. Could angels die?  
Angels could fly.  
She had to disappear.  
Maybe he could make her fly away.  
Fly away and die.

Gardenia had everyone.  
Russell was alone.

Gardenia was beloved.  
Russell was ignored.

People cared for Gardenia.  
No one-

The boy stopped moving, his hand mere centimeters away from the girl's back.  
Was he really uncared for?  
The image of Tabasa feeding the rabbits popped into his head.  
Tabasa cared, didn't he?  
Hadn't he said so?  
The slope Russell's mind had been rolling down screeched to a halt, and the cold determination he felt swayed slightly. Would Tabasa still be there if Gardenia fell down the stairs?  
Would Tabasa stay by Russell's side if he killed someone?

"Gardenia! Come down!"

Russell jolted out of his thoughts when he heard a man's deep voice call out right below him and Gardenia. He noticed the girl jerk as well, as if waking from a dream, and he stumbled back.  
She turned around when she heard the movement behind her and her eyes latched onto his. Her expression suddenly concerned, she reached out to him.

"Are you all right? Russell, right?"  
When he didn't answer, she added: "You look a bit pale."  
He shook his head wordlessly. He'd hesitated. This doubt he'd just had... It wasn't like him. She should've died, but with Tabasa stuck in Russell's mind, it had been harder for Russell to go through with it.  
The girl smiled at him and grabbed his hand.  
"Well if you're feeling okay...  
Let's go downstairs, dad probably wants us to go eat the cake."

He didn't resist her as she pulled him along.  
Something was wrong with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin.  
> Finally! Gardenia's chapter! You guys seemed to be excited about it, and I really hope this chapter satisfied your curiosity.  
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	10. The Puddle Apartments

When Russell returned to the living room by Gardenia's side, he felt all the others' gazes on him, but he didn't heed the strange looks and the hushed whispering. He made a beeline for Chris, who was gawking at him like he'd suddenly turned into an alien.  
Russell was troubled, undeniably so. What was it that had made him waver? What was it that had made him hesitate? Had it really been the thought of Tabasa?  
The boy was extremely perturbed. He usually wasn't one to hesitate or doubt, because he never cared about consequences. Yet this time, he'd cared about-  
No. No, it had to be something else. It couldn't be Tabasa. He didn't care about Tabasa.

"Dude."  
Russell looked over at his friend, who was still ogling him with the same awe-stricken expression.  
"Did you just get to talk with Gardenia? Like, talk to her alone, one on one, just the two of you?"

Russell nodded.

"I can't believe it. No way, no way. She's Gardenia, you can't just- Aw, man, I'm so jealous right now!"

Russell looked away. It wasn't such a big deal.

Chris slapped the blonde's shoulder.  
"Russell, you basically just talked with the cutest girl ever, it's a damn big deal! What's wrong with you man, don't you realize how cool this is? An' if you get to become friends with her, then I might get my chance to get to know 'er!"

She wasn't that special, mumbled Russell.

Chris' eyes widened.  
"Yeah she is, Russell, she's cute, she's rich, she's smart, what more do you want?"

Russell shook his head. He didn't want to answer anymore. He didn't want to talk. This whole thing, the birthday, talking with Gardenia, Chris acting so excited, thinking about Tabasa, Russell was getting tired of it all. He needed a break. He needed to get out. He needed to empty his head.  
He looked at Chris and told him he had to go.

Chris frowned and put his hand on Russell's shoulder.  
"Woah, man, you all right? You look real tired all of a sudden."

Russell shook his head again, telling him everything was fine, that he just needed some fresh air.

"Are you leaving? Cause if you are, I'm not going with you. This is my chance to get to know Gardenia, man, you understand."

Russell nodded. Sure, he understood. He wasn't asking Chris to leave with him.

Chris let go of his shoulder, obviously relieved.  
"Cool. Listen, man, I'll keep a piece of cake for you to bring back home so you can eat some. Okay?"

Russell shrugged. He was lying to himself when he said he didn't care much for that cake, because in truth, he was curious to know what a chef's birthday cake tasted like. However he didn't want to admit it. It was already too much realizing he wasn't as indifferent towards others as he thought.

Chris watched him closely, and it seemed like he understood something was wrong with his friend.  
"Russ, you sure you're okay? On second thought, maybe you shouldn't leave alone. I'm comin' with you."

Russell refused, taking a step away from the brunette. It was fine, he assured his friend, everything was fine. Chris obviously still had his doubts, but when he also took a step to go with Russell, the blonde told him to stop following him.  
Chris did as he was told, but he said: "You can go to my house even if I'm not there, okay? Mom's fine with it."

Russell nodded, and then he saw Gardenia drawing closer to the both of them, so he quickly turned on his heels and hurried to get out of the house before she could speak to them.

Russell already knew where he was going.  
He wasn't going to go to Chris' place, because if his mom was there she'd try to talk with him, but he was going to hang out on the docks. Staring at the water was always a good way to stop thinking. Waves were hypnotizing.

As he made his way back to the more desolate districts, thoughts swirled around in his head. There was nothing left of the ice-hot feeling that had edged him on at the top of the stairs to push Gardenia off. It was exactly like that time when he'd almost killed Tabasa, the feeling had come and now it was gone.  
Russell tried to clear things up in his mind, but it was hard. Every time he thought he'd cornered his thoughts, another came tumbling down and made everything a mess.  
He'd wanted to kill Gardenia. Hate had flared up again, and he'd hated her, and her father, and everything in that house. Had Gardenia died, he would've felt exactly the same as he did now: he wouldn't have cared about her any more than he did now. The issue wasn't her dying or not. The issue was that Tabasa had an influence on the way Russell acted and thought.

It scared Russell, it scared him more than anything else.

He didn't want the mere thought of someone to change his mind. He wanted to choose the things he did without being disturbed by... what exactly was it that had made him stop?  
Had it been worry? He'd felt like his lungs had been slightly crushed for just a moment. Yes, he'd worried that he wouldn't see Tabasa anymore. That was the word.  
But why? If he'd pushed Gardenia off the stairs at the very moment he'd chosen to, no one would've known it was him. No one would've seen him. They would've thought she'd tripped. Tabasa wouldn't have known, so it wouldn't have changed anything about Russell's situation.  
It had been an irrational thought. Completely and utterly unfounded.

Irrational thoughts didn't often happen to him.

Russell reached the apartment complex he secretly called "the puddle apartments". He'd met a young woman once, standing on the edge of the pier, her dress flapping in the wind. She was one of Chris' neighbours, although she'd never paid attention to Russell. She'd seemed sad and alone. He'd stood next to her to gaze at the waves, and she hadn't reacted to his presence.  
Even now, Russell didn't know what exactly had pushed him to step up to her. She'd been so lonely, just like him, and maybe he'd thought she was the same as he. She must've been ten years older than him.  
They stood side by side, quietly.  
And then she spoke. She didn't know him, and he didn't know her, except for the few times he'd seen her across the street. She spoke- maybe to him, maybe to the water, maybe to the wind.

"This place is a puddle...

A gloomy,  
ugly,  
moldy,  
lightless,  
damp,  
back-alley puddle...

That's what this place is."

And then she'd fallen silent. Russell hadn't answered.  
They'd stayed there for a while.

Then Russell had left her to go see Chris. When he'd come back two hours later, she was gone.  
Just a few days after that, Chris told him a neighbour had found a body floating right underneath the edge of the pier. The stuff of nightmares, had said Chris. Russell had shrugged and hadn't said anything.  
He didn't have a name, didn't recall her face, but he didn't forget her. Russell remembered her dress and her puddle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin.  
> I'm sorry to say I won't be updating this story for a while, because I've got exams coming up, but I'll be back after two months or so. Don't worry, this story will get finished, it's just going to take a bit more time than I thought :)  
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	11. Better Off Alone, Yumi, Vile Eyes

Russell stayed on the pier for hours, letting the lazy ebbing of the water take his troubles away.  
He stopped thinking about Chris. About Tabasa. About Gardenia. About his home.  
He let the waves' hypnotic back-and-forth invade his mind, and he let go of everything. He understood why the woman had jumped. It felt like the waves were calling out to him, and he knew that the woman had fallen in their embrace rather than jumped in the sea. Things probably hadn't been going well for her, as it went for many of the inhabitants here. Financial problems, adultery, power cuts, drugs... The woman had chosen the sea. Many others had chosen blades, rope or medicine.

Russell knew that if he'd been normal, he would've been long gone by now. He could've given in and stopped living whenever, but the thing was, he didn't care enough to die. Maybe it was a good thing. Maybe it was a bad thing. He didn't mind it being either.

Night fell around Russell, so he got back on his feet and started heading home. All his thoughts had vanished, leaving him empty and impassive, the way he was supposed to be. He really didn't understand why all those things had been bothering him in the first place. It was clear to him now what he had to do: stop seeing Tabasa. That was the only way he could go back to the way he was before meeting Tabasa. It was the only way he could stop caring.

He walked along the pier until he turned to his right to follow the regular pattern of the lamposts along Chris' street. Their lights had been turned on for a while now and whenever he looked up, he could see tiny black dots dancing around each bright orb he walked under. The insects were hitting the glass with soft pitter patters, and he was reminded of the way his classmates surrounded Gardenia.  
How pointless.

He passed by the panel which showed a pretty picture of neat, clean appartments in rows under a bright sun and which said WELC ME O THE P _ L  
A PART NTS. The whole presentation was drowned under layers upon layers of graffiti, and the shapes and spaces left behind by original name PORTLY could now be imagined to say PADDLE, POODLE and notably PUDDLE. Russell found it to be an interesting fate for the panel.

As he made his way across the town, Russell found himself shivering from the cold breeze blowing through his clothes. He hadn't thought of taking his coat this morning, hadn't thought he'd be getting home this late, hadn't thought it would get so cold. He didn't know what time it was, but he had a fair idea of it. Not the time of night boys his age were supposed to be out walking in the streets.  
He sneezed, and sniffled. He wasn't quite there yet, but he felt like he was about to catch a cold. He wasn't anywhere near his house, even if he tried to walk faster. His home may not have been the best place in the world, but it certainly was much warmer in there than outside.

Russell was about to cross the road when he heard a woman exclaim in a friendly Southern drawl: "Well if it ain't the Seager boy!"  
He turned his head towards the familiar voice and watched as a blonde officer walked up to him. Her blue eyes were warm as she added her signature greeting: "Howdy Russell!"

Officer Bombers, Russell answered while giving her a small nod of the head.

"Aw, don't be givin' me that _Officer Bombers_ nonsense, boy," she answered brightly as she held out her hand for him to shake. "I told ya to call me Yumi before, right?"

Russell complied, and their powerful handshake was hers for the most part. He let go, his arm returning to his side, and the officer lady frowned. "Yer hand's awfully cold, boy, what're you doin' out so late? Ya know I can't let you stay out here at this time of the night."

Oh, he knew. Of course he knew. It wasn't the first time his path crossed that of the beautiful officer, nor the last, and he knew that she wouldn't let him go freely now that she'd caught him. For some mysterious reason, it seemed she appreciated Russell despite his misdemeanors. Every time he and Chris ended up in custody, she was there. When he was brought to the office alone, mostly because one of the officers would find him walking around town at night instead of being home with his parents, she always insisted to be the one to bring him back. She was never threatening or cold in her way of treating him: she just laughed, called him a bad boy, and then they'd go to his house. She didn't behave like the other cops, and the boy often imagined her as a sheriff with a cowboy hat like in the books. Her accent stuck with that image just right.  
Russell had quickly found that he didn't mind her at all. She was an adult he didn't mind existing. She was nice and he didn't dislike her warm presence nor her friendly conversation. She was a bit like...  
Russell stopped himself from completing that thought.

"C'mon, Russell. Let's get ya home."  
Yumi put her hand on his shoulder and lightly guided him forward, and Russell let her. They both knew that she would be doing most of the talk on the way home, but that was fine.

There was only one thing Russell disliked about the officer lady seeing him home: the way his father looked at her whenever she was at the door. Dad would always push Russell inside without saying anything to him and start up a conversation with the officer lady, and Russell noticed every time the light in his eyes when he saw her.  
It was the light of a degenerate love, and Russell wondered if the lady noticed the same things Russell did. Those eyes... Those dirty, greedy, disgusting eyes. They were the same eyes his father had when he watched Mom moaning in the bedroom.

Dad was the one who asked Mom to prostitute herself, but he was also the one who asked the men to do those things to her. Russell had seen it happen. 

His father watched through the window.

Russell did not understand what grown-ups could possibly see through their bloodshot eyes. He did not understand the desire he could read on all of their faces. He had no such desire. He didn't care.  
Russell did not care about anything.  
All that he knew was that it made him want to crush those eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin.  
> Thought I'd introduce Yumi in this chapter, and I'll probably get around to introducing Kantera in two or three chapters.  
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	12. Stranger Danger

Russell didn't go back to the zoo on Tuesday.  
Nor did he go back on Thursday.  
And the week after that.

Instead of going to see the antelopes, the zebras and the rabbits, he went to hang out with Chris, just like he used to before meeting Tabasa. He stopped thinking about the zookeeper and his green hooded coat and his kind blue eyes, because Tabasa wasn't part of his life anymore. At least, that was what Russell convinced himself of.

Russell never felt lonely. He didn't experience that kind of bittersweet feeling.  
However, there were times when he'd find himself alone, like invisible walls were suddenly built around him: Russell would forget about the things surrounding him.  
If Chris was talking, Russell wouldn't hear him.  
If people were walking around him, Russell wouldn't see them.

At times like these, the zookeeper's silhouette would cross his mind and he would briefly wonder what it would be like if he just went back to talk to the man. Whenever it happened, Russell didn't dwell on his thoughts very long: he'd quickly move on to something else.  
Russell ignored the thought for two weeks, and then three, and he was sure that he was going back to the way he was before: the boy who didn't care about anything.  
It was a relief.

Russell was very careful to avoid the zoo's whereabouts whenever he walked around town, because he didn't want to risk coming across Tabasa. He suspected that if he encountered the man, something would make him change again into the strange person he'd briefly become during the time he regularly went to the zoo, and he really didn't want to care again. That had been a frightening experience which he did not wish to repeat.

Russell realized one day that he had been drug dealing a lot less during that time, when Chris asked him why he hadn't gotten as much money as usual. His friend didn't seem angry, simply curious.  
"Are you chickenin' out on me man? Why didn't you say so earlier?"

Russell shook his head, staring at the crumpled bills in Chris' hand. He wasn't scared... He'd just forgotten to deal.

Chris shrugged and put the money in his pocket. "Hey, it's fine, I'm glad you help me out an' all, but if you don' want to anymore I understand. Jus' thought it was a matter of time before you'd stop."

No, he didn't want to stop. He'd just been busy with... things.

Chris smiled. "Oh, that zookeeper of yours, right? Hey man, it's cool, I told you. I get it if you don' feel good sellin' drugs now that you got a straight, law-abidin' citizen as your friend."

The zookeeper wasn't a friend.

Chris' smile lessened. "You ain't friends anymore? What happened?"

Nothing. It had been a mistake, that was all.

"Did... Did he do somethin'?"

Russell shook his head and told Chris to forget about it, so Chris dropped the subject.  
And that was that. It was time to go, so Russell picked up his stuff and left Chris' house.

He knew why Chris had been so quick to assume that Tabasa had done something wrong. He felt the same way Russell did about adults, notably about men: he was wary of them. It wasn't surprising, considering they'd both had quite a bad experience with a stranger a few years back. It had been raining that day, a heavy downpour like the sky had just caved in from the weight of the water, they'd been far from home and they'd been taking cover next to a closed store. A man had stopped to chat with them, and he'd seemed nice enough.  
Once the rain had eased a bit, Chris had left and Russell had decided to stay behind, since he didn't want to go back home just yet.

The man had started to act a bit strange after Chris had gone. Russell couldn't quite put his finger on it at first, but he felt slightly uncomfortable with the way the man smiled.  
"I haven't said this yet, but you're a cute boy.  
Grown-ups tend to talk behind my back and call me strange,  
because I tell this to children.  
I just really like children.  
That's all it is.  
You understand, right?"

Russell had nodded cautiously. In truth, he didn't really understand. And he didn't know why the man was telling him this. He thought he ought to get going.

The man had stopped him by stepping in his way.  
"Where are you going?  
You know, I'm very lonely.  
I'm happy I met a kid like you."

Russell had felt something travel down his spine and had taken a step back, uneasiness rolling in his stomach. The man had ignored his reaction and kept smiling his strange smile.  
"No one understands me.  
But you understand, don't you?  
You know I'm nice...  
I just want you to stay with me a little bit.  
I'll give you candy if you come to my house."

The man had gotten closer, and that was when Russell had understood that he'd better run, that this was one of _those_ strangers. Just as he spun around, he'd felt the man's big, cold hand grab his arm and pull him back. Russell had felt his heart pick up speed, his breath shorten. The man hadn't been very tall, but he'd been bigger and stronger, and Russell couldn't shake him off. 

The man kept insisting, like he wanted to convince Russell, and maybe convince himself.  
"I'm a nice man!  
Why does no one understand me?  
Say that I'm nice! Say it!!"

Russell looked around frantically to find anything or anyone that could help him, but there seemed to be no one around because of the rain. The man had pulled on his arm again, and his grip was so tight that it had started to hurt. Russell was about to call for help when the man's other hand slipped across his face, muffling his voice before he had the chance. Russell had immediately bitten down on the fingers covering his mouth in an attempt to free himself. The man had screamed in pain and loosened his hold on the boy, and Russell had tried to slip away, but the man's fingers had grabbed the back of his shirt and he'd felt himself being pulled back.

And then there had been the sound of a third familiar voice.  
"Let go of 'im, you fuckin' perv!"  
The man had turned around without letting go of Russell's shirt, and he'd faced a furious Chris. As soon as he'd gotten the chance, the brunette had kicked him between the legs and the man had howled, crumpling to his knees.  
Chris had grabbed Russell by the elbow and pulled him out of the man's grasp, yelling: "Run!"  
So Russell had ran.

They'd fled as fast as their young legs could carry them, out of the street, out of the neighbourhood, and they'd only slowed down when Russell couldn't run anymore.  
Panting, Chris had looked up from his crouching position at Russell, who was leaning against a wall to catch his breath.  
"What the fuck was that all about?"

Russell couldn't find anything coherent to say.

"Did that fucker do anythin' weird to you?"

Russell had shaken his head and slid down the wall.  
His heart was still hammering away in his chest, and he could feel his skin crawl where the man had gripped him.  
That had been.... _terrifying_. Yes, that was it.  
_Fright_ was what he'd felt back there, and it was what he was still feeling. His palms were sweaty and his fingers felt cold, he could hear blood rushing in his ears and it felt like his lungs were about to explode.

They'd stayed there for a while until their breath was back to normal, and then Chris had looked up again and smiled at his friend.  
"I know kickin' some guy's balls ain't cool, but hey, it worked."

Russell had nodded and after a small moment of silence, he'd asked the reason why Chris had been there to help him.

"Oh, yeah!  
I jus' forgot to ask you if you could give me back your empty plastic bags,  
'cause if I rinse them out me and my mom could use them instead of buyin' them.  
We're cutting it a bit too short this month,  
so any way of saving money's good."

Russell had dug into his pockets and handed Chris the crumpled plastic bags where there were still some specks of residue left. He'd asked Chris if he was sure they were safe to use, considering what had been in them moments prior.

Chris had waved his concerns away.  
"You're always asking yourself so many goddamn questions already, stop doin' that!  
It's fine if I clean them out real good."

Russell hadn't insisted. There were only two empty plastic bags because costumers who didn't take the contents along with the bag weren't common, but it happened. Chris had shoved them in his pockets. Then he'd looked up at Russell and frowned slightly.  
"Hey, you sure you'll be fine goin' home on your own?  
I'll get it if you're not too hot to go alone,  
I mean, you don't look so good.  
Kinda pale, actually."

Russell had been about to answer that he was fine when he'd noticed that he was still a bit shaky from the earlier encounter with the stranger, and he'd nodded. Chris was right. He didn't feel fine, quite the contrary: he didn't want to walk back home by himself.  
Chris had smiled lightly and given his back a pat.  
"Okay man, let's go.  
I'll keep you company."  
Russell had gone the way back home with Chris at his side, and that night Russell's nightmares hadn't been about blood seeping in white fur. They'd been about the lingering feeling of the man's clammy hold on his arm. It had felt disgusting.

The skin there had been a bit bruised, but it wasn't serious enough to go see the nurse. Soon there was nothing left about that encounter but his and Chris' memory of it. They'd been much more careful since then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin.  
> I wasn't planning on developing the part in the game about Strangers, but then I changed my mind and thought it was a good occasion to imagine how the thing actually went down. I mean, Russell was quite young when he met that creepy stranger, so I don't think he could've escaped by himself.  
> Anyways, thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	13. Elbow Slings and Hospitals

On Friday, he hurt his arm against the table. His father came home and noticed that the gaming system was still on when it shouldn't have been, and slapped Russell harder than the boy had expected. The blow caught him across the face and made him lose track of time and space for just a second, but it lasted too long for him to avoid the small table in front of the couch. Something cracked when he fell against its edge, and after that, his elbow started feeling funny.

So he went to see the nurse behind the hospital. When she saw the way he was holding his arm, her big green eyes showed an emotion he didn't understand - and never did, each time it happened.  
Now that he thought about it, it was the same look that Tabasa had shown when-  
No, never mind that.

"A-Ah! Russell!  
Err, what happened this time?" exclaimed the nurse.

It was a bad fall, explained Russell.

He noticed that the nurse's name tag, which said _Mireille_ in pretty slanted calligraphy, was a bit askew that day. She gently pushed him inside.  
"Um, y-you should sit down.  
I'm sorry if this hurts,  
but I need to see if anything is broken."  
He did as he was told, letting her feel around his elbow with her fingers, and then she told him to wait and left for a bit.

While he waited, Russell wondered why she seemed so hurried, and why she hadn't smiled as brightly as she usually did. Was his elbow that badly hurt? Sure, it ached, it was bruised and swollen, but he could still move his arm around.  
He didn't think his elbow was the problem. He'd come here with a dislocated shoulder several times, and once he'd even had a broken finger: she'd looked alarmed, but she'd still tried to give him a reassuring smile, even though he didn't need reassurance.  
This time, something was different about her, but he couldn't tell what.

She came back holding a familiar object made in black and grey fabric with straps hanging from it.  
"I-I found a spare sling in our supply closet, so...  
Um, please, make sure to return it in the same state."

As she kneeled in front of him to slip it around his shoulder and arm, Russell asked why he needed one. It was as uncomfortable as he remembered.

Once she finished tying it and making sure it was not too tight and not too loose, she looked up at him. Smiling softly, she explained it to him.  
"Um, well, your elbow is injured, but nothing is out of place, so this should be enough.  
Y-You need to be careful, though, don't go running and jumping around, all right?  
It has to stay still. And, err, make sure you wear it all the time.  
.... Come back when you think it's better, and, um, I'll tell you if you can stop wearing the sling, okay Russell?"

Russell nodded.  
She gave him an ice pack as well and told him to hold it under his elbow until the swelling went down, and to do the same when he'd get home with the one she'd given him before. Then she said she was busy and had to leave, and that once he felt better, he could go.  
"J-Just leave the ice pack over there," she said as she pointed on a small plastic table at the corner of the room.  
Then she smiled at him again, handed him some tablets of painkillers, said goodbye, and left.

Russell noticed something else that day: the nurse hadn't said anything about her patient, Mr. Saxon. He found it very strange.  
Maybe that was why the nurse had acted like she had. Something must've been wrong with her patient.  
_

Russell waited for his elbow's swelling to go down, gazing at the way Mireille had taken back into the hospital. He'd gone inside there once, when he was younger and his family had started to really break down because his dad's gambling habits and drinking were getting out of hand. He'd been seriously hurt by the man, with a few fractured bones which had required his stay in a hospital bed.

He hadn't liked that place at all.

The nurses in the pediatric ward weren't all like Mireille. One of them obviously had a short temper which children had the greatest of abilities to worsen, and he'd heard her get cross with one of the smaller patients once. A horrible voice had risen from the checkup room, a voice distorted by anger and frustration.There'd been sounds of breaking glass as she yelled "little brat", and Russell had taken a step back to leave the hallway. 

Her eyes were cold and she was rarely gentle. Fortunately, he wasn't one of the children who needed the most attention, but she'd already had to handle him to help him up despite his fractured ribs. She hadn't really helped him out of his bed, rather, she'd ushered him to stand up and had tugged on his wrist so that he'd hurry.  
"I don't have all day," she'd said with an impatient voice.  
Russell had done his best to stand as fast as he could, so that she'd let go of him and leave. He didn't like it when she was around.

Russell didn't understand why such a person, who clearly disliked most children, worked in this kind of place.

On the other hand, there were some kind nurses, but he'd gradually observed a certain phenomenon: when a nurse was kind, there was always another nurse to talk about her behind her back. They talked about each other above his bed as they changed the sheets, as if their patient wasn't there to hear them talk, and he watched them from the corner of his room as they spouted hateful words and made fun of their colleagues. He found it ridiculous, because even if the pair of ill-speaking nurses found faults in a third nurse, they'd do the same a bit later about the nurse they'd been talking with just before. It seemed pointless and it was obvious to him that talking the way they did about others wouldn't bring them anything.

Some nurses would complain when they thought no one was around. They'd sigh, and long for a change in their routine. One of them had even been muttering under her breath as she'd stopped in front of his room to jot something down on a piece of paper against his closed door. The doors weren't very soundproof, and he'd heard her grumble: "Day after day, taking patient's blood, changing sheets, listening to the doctors' scolding..." She'd sighed. "So tiring..."  
He'd assumed she was spending a bad day.

The nurses weren't the only bad thing in the hospital. Sometimes the other kids acted unpleasant as well.  
There was one time when Russell was in the playing room, sitting in a corner by himself, and one of the younger kids had been running around and making a lot of noise. The nurse had stopped him, and one of the older children had gone to see him to say: "Don't run around. Not everyone has health like you."  
His expression had clearly been displeased, and the younger one's face had fallen.  
"I'm sorry," he'd said in a small voice.  
The older had ignored his answer and left him alone.  
Russell had watched the exchange quietly, and then he'd gone back to reading his storybook. It was a storybook his granny used to have in her library.

Once, Russell had ventured out of his room to see what the rest of the hospital looked like. He'd stayed within the limits of the pediatric ward, and without knowing it, stepped in the palliative care section.  
He drew closer to one of the unmoving patients in the first bed to his right. It was a girl, a bit younger than him. She was holding some kind of stuffed animal under one arm, and the other one was enclosed in a big white plaster. Her arm wasn't the only part of her body covered in bandages and the like, there was also something made of plastic taped to her throat. The machine next to her bed was big and beeping, and there was a strange wooshing sound every now and then.

It was impressive.

Russell had stayed there for a while, wondering how someone could be so still in their sleep, so pale, despite the steady noise of the machine that sounded like a city truck backing up in the street. He had taken a step closer, reaching out to touch the girl's fingers. They were cold, and limp in his hand. How strange.

Suddenly, there'd been a loud continuous beep in his ear, and his head had jerked up, looking for the source of the noise. It wasn't the machine next to the girl, but it seemed to come from behind one of the many white screens separating the beds.

He barely had the time to walk past two of the beds when the door behind him opened, and several nurses came rushing in. He didn't say anything, and didn't answer when one of the nurses asked him what he was doing here. He stared at the nurses huddling around the bed just ahead of him, saw one of them pick up a small, white hand.  
He didn't have time to watch any more, the nurse next to him grabbing him by the shoulder and gently pushing him out of the room.

He walked back to his section of the ward obediently, following the nurse's lead. He asked what had happened, and the nurse turned to him with a troubled expression.  
"Something bad happened. Something sad."

Russell looked down, trying to understand. Something bad and sad... Had the kid been hurt?

The nurse nodded slowly.  
"I guess you could say that."

Russell asked if the kid would be okay. That was what you were supposed to ask when someone was hurt.

The nurse hadn't nodded this time.  
"Listen, Russell...  
The place where you were,  
it was a sad, quiet place.  
You shouldn't have gone there.  
Sometimes the children there... they don't make it."

Russell had been nine years old at that time. His grandmother had died a few months before, so he knew what death was. He'd asked if death was what happened to the kids in that room. It was a curious and new concept to him, that children could die like this. He'd thought only old people died in hospitals.

The nurse's steps had faltered and he'd shot a glance at the boy. He'd hesitantly opened his mouth to answer.  
".... Not all of them.  
No, not all of them."

They'd both been silent until they'd reached Russell's room. The nurse had told the boy to lay down, and then he'd left him alone.  
Russell had pondered this new knowledge for a while.  
_

Russell looked away from the door that had closed behind Mireille's back and removed the ice pack from under his elbow. The swelling had gotten a bit better.  
He remembered that at the time, the discovery that kids like him could die in a hospital had made him feel small, insignificant, vulnerable. Now, when he thought about death, it didn't make him feel a thing. Just as trying to kill Tabasa and Gardenia hadn't changed the rythm his heartbeat. Just as thinking about his dead rabbit didn't disturb him. Just as nightmares of blood and pain left him indifferent.  
As he stood up to put the ice pack back on the table, he wondered when he'd lost that part of himself. Maybe it was for the better, maybe it was for the worse. Russell didn't really care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin.  
> Russell gets fucked up by his dad quite often, fortunately Mireille is there to help. This is some more backstory, because I think the hospital section of the game is something Russell has gone through before. The game says that Mireille is there to help him with his bruises, but not that she brings him inside, so I guessed that for him to know about the inner workings of a hospital, he'd have to visit one. Plus, in the game he sees a dead kid on his/her hospital bed, so in the same kind of logical deduction I think he probably saw someone like that before the HD Rehab Program happened.  
> Anyways, thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	14. Kantera, The Medicine Shop, Festivals and Funerals

A year before Russell had gone to the zoo and met Tabasa, Chris had told Russell about a new shop opening east of here.  
"Heard not many people want to go to his shop, 'cause it's got weird plants and stuff. He's not from around here at all, and he acts weird too. I dunno, I haven't gone there for myself."

Russell had leaned on his elbow. What kind of place did the shop owner come from?

"Well, from what I've heard, he's from another country."

Russell had looked away, and he hadn't answered. How strange.

Russell wondered what it was like to come from another country. He wondered why someone would want to leave their home and travel to another part of the world. He wondered why he never thought of doing the same. Would it change anything to the way his life was if he knew no one?

He was curious to see what the new shop and its inhabitant looked like, so he went to the eastern part of the town to see. It didn't take long to find the new shop.

It didn't look new. It was a bit shabby, and when Russell peered inside, it seemed smaller than it looked on the outside.  
However, there was no doubt that this was the shop Chris had told him about: strange black signs were drawn along its walls, the inside was a bright lacquered red, and there was a painting hanging behind the glass door which Russell contemplated for a while. It looked like a green snake with a big, strong head, whiskers, and its mouth was open in a roar which unveiled two rows of sharp teeth. Its eyes were black and intense, and Russell felt like they were alive: when he leaned to the side, he was under the impression that the eyes followed him. The strange animal intrigued him.

He pushed the door open and heard a few light musical notes coming from above. He tilted his head back and noticed the flowered lanterns along the ceiling and the wooden chimes hanging over the door, and then he looked back down when he heard a deep, soft voice ahead of him. 

"Hello, little one.  
What brings you along?"

There was a man at the counter at the end of the shop. Russell let go of the door and started walking towards him as it closed behind him. The man looked young, in spite of his gray hair, and he was wearing clothes that Russell thought looked like some kind of robe. It was a simple piece of clothing, gray in color as well, with a wide sash around the man's waist.

Russell stopped in front of the counter covered in a green tapestry and said he'd heard about the shop thanks to a friend.

"... I see, I see.  
Were you curious, perhaps?"

Russell nodded, and the man smiled gently. His eyes were slanted, thought Russell. The boy didn't know anyone else with slanted eyes, and he'd never met anyone with dark grey irises like his before.

"Then please, do sate your curiosity.  
What was it that you meant to ask?"

Russell looked beyond the man, where a green curtain hung at the back of the shop, then his eyes swept over the shop. Next to the counter, there was a low table in lacquered wood, and all around the shop he could see wooden boxes, plants and paper scrolls sitting on shelves, drawers, and red panels hanging from the walls with white signs on them. Unknown, peculiar scents saturated the air, and there were a lot of white pots and paper bags on the racks as well.  
He turned back to the man and asked what he was selling.

"Ah, well, I am a doctor.  
I sell many plants and herbal medicines to cure others' ailments."

Russell asked what ailments were.

"Why, ailments are troubles of health.  
There are many different recipes for many different cures,  
and I happen to have plenty of them."

Recipes? What kind of recipes?

"They are recipes from my homeland.  
If you feel tired, if you feel cold, if you feel sick...  
I have what you need, you see."

Russell asked what his homeland was.

"Do you know about the distant eastern lands?  
That is where I come from.  
The eastern land called Japan."

Russell asked about the strange animal in the painting.

"That strange animal, as you say, is a dragon.  
I do not doubt that your dragons are different,  
but that is what they look like where I come from."

Russell nodded slowly. How interesting. A dragon without wings...  
Could they fly?

"Why, yes, of course they can fly!  
They do not need wings to do so.  
Our dragons can glide with the wind and the clouds."

When the man noticed that the boy wasn't going to ask anything else, he added:  
"Oh, yes, little one, could you please tell me your name?  
I would indeed love to know who it is I am talking to."

Russell answered, and the man tilted his head thoughtfully.

"Russell, is it... I see, I see.  
My name is Kantera.  
Now, Russell, you seem curious enough about me and about my shop.  
If you'd like, you could help me with it.  
I do like some company, and if you'd like, I could tell you more about my country.  
What do you say?"

Russell couldn't deny he was interested, but this was a bit sudden.

The doctor noticed his hesitation.  
"Now, now," he said with a smile, "You don't have to come all the time.  
You can come whenever you feel like it."

Russell shrugged. Maybe.

"If you have the time, we can talk a bit more."  
Then his eyes widened and he exclaimed: "Oh! I wonder, would you like to try some food from my country?"

The doctor didn't wait for his answer and disappeared behind the curtain at the back of the store.  
Russell was curious about what the doctor wanted to show him, so he didn't leave just yet. Instead, he started walking around the shop. After taking a closer look, he noticed that most of the wooden boxes were locked, but he could sometimes see a piece of leaf or stem peeking out. He stepped up to one of the shelves which carried many white pots, and he tipped one over. There were little brown round pellets in it, and they made little clicking sounds as they hit the sides of the pot.  
There were also wads of sprigs next to it, and in one of the bigger white pots, he found some kind of honey-smelling powder. The smell made him a bit dizzy, so he put the pot back where it was.

He heard footsteps nearing the shelf he was standing beside of, and the man appeared holding something plump and white in one hand. It seemed to be warm, as steam was rising off of it.  
"You're very thorough when you're curious, aren't you?" said the man with an observant smile.

Russell looked at the object in his hand and asked what it was.  
The man looked down at the little white ball resting on a napkin in his hand.

"Ah, this is a manjuu.  
It is a very common treat in my country,  
and I daresay, the best medicine when it comes to feeling better."

He handed the manjuu to the boy, who shook his head.  
He didn't need to feel better.

"Come now, Russell," chided the man. "I'm not blind.  
You look like you could use a little something to cheer you up."

Russell didn't know what to answer, and the manjuu smelled very good, so he ended up holding out his hand. Kantera let him take it, and it felt just right in his hands: soft, plump, supple, and warm.

As he ate the tasty treat - there was meat inside, and it was a little sweet - he watched as the doctor checked the pot he'd been looking inside of earlier. Then Kantera closed the pot and turned to Russell.  
"Be careful, Russell, not all that I sell is completely harmless.  
This powder smells sweet, but it is a powerful medicine."

Russell swallowed his mouthful and asked what is was for.

"It helps induce sleep.  
It is made from a flower called the Yama-Basho,  
and I have some raw materials in the warehouse.  
I should warn you, however, never touch the raw flower."

Why?

"It gives... strong hallucinations to the one who handles it without care."

Russell took another bite of his manjuu and nodded.

Then Kantera asked him if he wanted to know more about the things he sold, and Russell said yes. He spent another hour with the man and learned many things about the doctor, like the fact that his dark robe was actually called a kimono, and was traditional japanese styled clothing, as were his shoes. He also learned that the pretty red flowers on each side of the counter were called Higanbana flowers, or red spider lilies: they were flowers that were brought to funerals and graves, and were consequently called death flowers in Japan.  
When Russell asked why the doctor kept those flowers here, Kantera told him that those were a constant reminder of how easy it was to die.

"After all, aren't they beautiful?" he added with a gentle smile, staring at the flowers with an undescribable expression.

And after that, Kantera asked him if it was all right for him to stay so late after school. Russell noticed it was almost past the time his father tolerated, so he picked up his bag and bid the doctor goodbye.  
Kantera told him he could come anytime. Russell didn't forget, and so the doctor's shop became a place for him to go when he didn't know where else to settle down, just like the pier at the puddle apartments.

There was something about Kantera that made him want to go to the shop, even if he didn't know what. Kantera was a strange adult. He had gentle manners, slow movements which were always meaningful, and had the same way of speaking as an old man.  
Russell was intrigued by this person.

Sometimes they drank tea together. Sometimes, the doctor asked him to help picking herbs. There were even a few times when Russell stayed the night, for special occasions like japanese festivals, which Kantera told him were called _matsuri_.  
On the date of the Hanami festival, or Cherry Blossom Festival, he brought Russell along to eat a picnic with him outside. It had been on a warm April evening, and they'd sat along a road with a few trees. The doctor had seemed a bit wistful, although he still smiled happily.  
"These trees...  
Not quite as beautiful as the cherry blossoms,  
but they will have to do."

Then he'd looked down at the boy at his side and handed him a flower-shaped treat.  
"This is Hanami Dango.  
It is no secret that you very much appreciate dumplings,  
so I think you will like it."

Russell had been surprised by the sweet taste of the dango, but he'd immediately taken a liking to it.

On the date of the New Year festival, Kantera made him taste traditional noodles called _toshikoshisoba_ (a word which Russell had the hardest time to pronounce), and drink spiced wine. He also showed him spinning tops, kites and cards that were used to play games in the New Year festival.  
He brought out one of his old festival lanterns so that Russell could see one.

Kantera would tell him that those festivals were usually celebrated with family members, and that he used to do so all the time with his grandfather.  
The doctor often talked about his grandfather, and he obviously greatly respected the man.  
He told Russell about his land's culture, their way of life.  
About buddhism, and about the small scroll at the back of his shop which said _namu-amida-butsu_ and meant "praise Amida Buddha".

After a few months of this, Kantera also started telling him more about Higanbana flowers. This lead to discussions about afterlife, and how the Eastern populations viewed it. 

There were flowers.  
Souls of the dead marched in a procession under a silent sunset. 

There were bones.  
Bones were kept in cinerariums.

There was fire.  
Bodies were burned in crematoriums. 

Silky bones danced with a snapping in crackling flames.

Once, Russell visited such a place as he slept. There were shadows of fish floating around, because fish kept their eyes open even in death. Soft chimes rang out, sounding just like the ones in Kantera's shop. It was dark, and it was a bit hard to breathe, but it was peaceful.  
Russell thought that it was as close of a dream as he'd ever get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin.  
> Finally introduced everyone's favourite wise dragon boy. He's so cute, too bad he's got quite the dark cat in the bag. I hope this is realistic enough and that it sounds like Segawa's character. As you can see, I did a bit of research on japanese culture. Just a little bit, though.  
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	15. Spilled Fuel, Scattered Matches

On the Sunday of the same week when his elbow got hurt, he went to the church.  
Nothing had changed there. The girl was brightly chatting away with her brother, her chestnut-colored pigtails bouncing on her shoulders as she nodded vehemently, and their mother was sweeping the ground in front of the church. Russell sat in one of the pews and watched them quietly. 

His elbow didn't hurt as much as before, thanks to the painkiller he'd swallowed two hours ago, but the sling was annoying and made it a bit difficult to move around.  
He'd take it off whenever he came home and hid it in his bag, because he didn't want his father to cause him any trouble for it, but he made sure to put it on whenever his parents weren't there. He didn't want to end up crippled just because he hadn't followed the nurse's advice.

Watching the siblings from his corner of the church, Russell wondered if he could ever behave the same way they did. If he could have the same bright eyes and same wide smile as them when they were together.

They seemed happy.  
Gardenia seemed happy.

They had a mother.  
Gardenia had a father.

All of them were loved by their family.  
Was that the reason why they were so happy?  
Was that the reason why Russell couldn't be like them?

Russell's gaze dropped to the small bible in front of him. It was sitting in the back of the pew in front of him, with a golden cross over its cover. Those people wore crosses around their necks.  
Did those people despise anyone?  
Would they be forgiven no matter what they did?  
Wasn't that what the bible said?  
Repentance was the way to be forgiven. It could forgive anything.

Russell looked back up and stared at the stuffy priest and his sister. If he could make them disappear like he'd wanted to make Gardenia disappear, would it make him feel better?  
Why did they have all that he didn't?

Russell felt something growing inside of him. He hadn't been able to last time, but now... Now he could, because Tabasa wouldn't be there to trouble his mind. He wouldn't stop Russell from doing what he chose to do, because Russell wouldn't think about him, because Tabasa didn't matter anymore, not at all. Surely Russell could go through with his own decisions, without faltering. And even if it was a bad thing he wanted to do, then God would forgive him. Because if he repented, then he would be forgiven. And if he was forgiven, then everything would be fine.

If repenting could forgive anything, then...

Late at night, he went to church. The sky was clear, the moon shone down on the grass, its light spilling over the pretty dark flowers wrapped around the church. Russell was holding a jerrican full of gasoline, and it made soft splishing noises as he walked.  
There was no one around.  
The sound of the town was muffled by the distance separating the church from the rest of the world.

Russell put the jerrican down in the grass and sat down next to the church wall. It was quiet here.  
He tilted his head back and gazed at the vines.  
He didn't dislike this peaceful place.  
It was the home of three people.  
He didn't dislike the church, but he did dislike what those people had.  
He didn't like that those siblings were so happy and close. He didn't like that they had a loving mother, that they had things he could never have or feel. He didn't understand what it was that could bind people like this. Brother and sister... Child and mother. He disliked it. He disliked it all.

He wanted it to be gone.

Russell got back on his feet, opened the jerrican with his free hand, and grabbed it by the handle.  
He started walking around the church slowly, pouring the gasoline along its walls.  
Everything was quiet.  
There was no one.

_God, please listen._  
Tonight, your faithful followers  
will depart to your side. 

The jerrican became lighter and lighter in his hand, until it weighed nothing but its plastic shell. Russell lowered it in the grass.  
He took out the match box he had in his pocket and put it in his other hand, the one whose arm was in the sling. Then he pulled out a match with his free hand.

_What would Tabasa think?_

He froze.  
No.

Not again.

Not this again.

He ignored the thought and proceeded to stick the match to the side of the box.  
He suddenly noticed that his hand was shaking. Why was it shaking?

_Isn't he the only one who really cares?_

He tried to stop thinking about it, but he couldn't.  
His mind kept voicing his thoughts and he was unable to stop it.

_He was worried, remember?_

He stopped.

_Even after what you did to him..._

He hesitated.

_What will you do then?_

He stayed still in the dark night, the thought growing and growing in his mind.  
If he did this...  
But Tabasa wasn't a part of his life anymore.  
Tabasa wouldn't know...

_What will you do then?_

It wasn't supposed to be a question he'd ask himself.

Why did he care?  
Burning the church down was easy. The grass would burn, the vines would burn, the flowers would burn, _they_ would burn. He'd wanted them gone for a while now, he just hadn't realized it.  
So why was he so... unsure?  
Why did he _care_?

He stayed like this a long time.  
The moon's light slowly disminished as big, grey clouds filled the skies. The grass around him darkened, but he didn't notice.  
He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't hear it at first, the soft sound of crushed grass progressively reaching his ears until it grew dangerously close. At that moment, he broke free of his doubt-riddled mind, instantly alert. He heard someone call out: "Is someone there?"  
It was the girl's voice. The girl called Cody.

He dropped everything and bolted out from behind the wall, fleeing in the opposite direction of the her voice.

"Dogma, don't you think it smells weird?" said the voice with an interrogative and slightly wary tone.

That was the last thing Russell heard before he was out of range.  
He didn't hear anyone running after him, or yelling at him to stop.  
No one tried to catch him.

Russell ran.  
He ran, pain shooting through his arm as his fleeing strides jostled his sling around.  
He ran, and ran, and didn't stop running until he felt a stitch in his side, and then he slowed down and doubled over to catch his breath.  
No one had tried to go after him, so he hadn't been seen, right?

He tried to slow down his heavy breathing, listening to the sounds around him. There was a dog barking from afar, and he could hear the sound of a car once in a while, but that was all.  
He straightened once he got his breath back, and started walking to get back home.  
He'd left everything back there, at the church. Maybe someone would know that he was the one who'd tried to set fire to the church, but that wasn't what troubled him. 

What truly disturbed him was that he didn't know what to do with the fact that he still cared.  
He wasn't cured.  
It was still there, the thing that made it a bit hard to breathe when he thought about Tabasa. He'd though it was gone.  
But why was it still there?

Russell looked down at his hand, the one that had been shaking earlier. His fingers were still agitated with small, rapid tremors. He didn't understand what was happening.  
Why was he shaking? Why did his breath still feel short, when he'd stopped to get it back?  
He could feel his heart still hammering in his chest and his breathing stutter, and it was like someone was grabbing at the back of his throat and tightening their grip.

Maybe he was sick. Maybe he'd caught a cold.

Why was he thinking of Tabasa?

 _It's not a sickness. It's something more, something entirely different. Something you don't know, and don't understand,_ a voice told him at the back of his head. A mocking voice. A voice he knew, somehow, was right. This wasn't just a matter of being sick, of being cured.

And it made him feel very uneasy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin.  
> Shaking hands and short breath: signs of an emotion Russell can't control, and most of all can't understand. Where will he go after coming this close to burning down a church and the people inside?  
> Thanks for reaching 100 kudos, guys, a hundred of you took the time to read this story _and_ show me that you appreciated it.  
>  So as always thank you for reading, and leave a comment if you feel like it!


	16. The Newspaper, The Doctor's Intuition

Russell didn't go back home that night. Although slipping out had been easy, he knew that going back in was another level of difficulty that he wasn't ready to try. He was still feeling a bit apprehensive towards the way his hands shook, and he had no idea how to stop the trembling of his fingers.  
He couldn't spend the night out, it was dangerous. He didn't want the police to bring him back home. And he didn't want to disturb Chris and his mom this late.  
So he decided to see if Kantera was still awake. The man was a bit of an owlish person, and he often stayed up late sorting the products in his warehouse or quietly sipping tea and reading old books about plants, both from his homeland and from his new country. That was most likely the reason why he looked so sleepy during the day.

When Russell reached the shop, he peered inside and saw that light was pouring over the counter in two thin lines from behind the green curtain. Kantera was still up, and probably sifting through his plants.  
Russell tried to jiggle the door's handle to see if the doctor had forgotten to lock up the shop. He had no such luck, and the door remained firmly shut, so he knocked on the glass to try and catch the doctor's attention from beyond the curtain.  
He waited for a while, and knocked again, louder this time.

After a few seconds, the curtain moved and revealed the doctor. He looked intrigued and was holding roots of some kind in his gloved hand. When he recognized the small shape of the boy in front of his store, his mouth formed a silent "Ah!" and he turned back behind the curtain.  
A few more moments passed and when he pushed it aside again, the roots in his hand had disappeared, replaced by a key. The man hurried to the front of his shop and turned the key in the lock, and the door opened with a soft chime.  
He had a fretful expression, but his eyes were mostly inquisitive.

"Russell...  
May I ask what you are doing out so late?  
Is something the matter?"

The boy didn't answer his question, but he asked if he could stay the night.  
The doctor didn't hesitate and ushered him inside.

"Why, yes, come in."  
As he closed the door behind Russell, he asked:  
"Pray tell, Russell, what happened?"

Russell looked down at his hands. His fingers had stopped shaking.  
He still felt incredibly puzzled by his body's reaction to what happened, and he didn't understand why this was happening. It wasn't because of the failed attempt to set the church on fire, he was sure of it. He didn't care about that or the fact that he might get caught. He'd wavered because he'd thought of Tabasa, and he had little to no doubt that the zookeeper was the reason why he was like this.

"Well, Russell?"

The boy turned around to look at the doctor. Kantera wasn't looking stern or cross or anything like that. He just had a gentle expression on his face, an expression that probably meant that he really wanted Russell to talk to him.

But Russell shook his head slowly and looked away.  
Kantera didn't insist, and he settled his hand on Russell's small shoulder to lead him to the back of the shop.  
"All is well, Russell. 'Tis nothing.  
Let us chat about other matters."

Russell and Kantera spent another hour tying up roots into wads, and then the doctor told him he could go to bed if he felt like it. Russell noticed that his limbs felt a bit heavy, and that he was indeed tired. The doctor smiled at him kindly and went to fetch a clean kimono. It wasn't Russell's size, of course, but the doctor was short for his age, so Russell just had to roll up the sleeves and the legs for it to fit better. Once Russell had finished showering and had dressed for the night, he bid good night to the doctor who was reading in his seat with a cup of tea at his side, and he went to bed. Kantera's place was small, so there was no guest room, but the futon Kantera had laid out for him in the storeroom was much more comfortable than the ratty mattress he usually slept on at home.  
He thought about Tabasa for a while before he finally fell asleep.  
Russell's night was dark, silent and still. There were no nightmares.  
_

The boy woke up to the mouth-watering smell of rice, natto, soup and other smells he didn't recognize. Only at the doctor's place was waking up in the morning so pleasing and appetizing. 

In Russell's home, breakfast wasn't really a thing: usually, it consisted of somewhat dry toast with chocolate spread (which sometimes lasted up to two months, because Russell was the only one to eat it). Discount fruit juice and cereal only happened if his mother was in a good mood when she went grocery shopping. Russell ate alone with a ticking clock and buzzing fridge before leaving for the day.

When he ate breakfast at Chris' house, there was fruit juice, cereal, and even hot chocolate in winter, and there was a major difference: they didn't eat alone. Chris' mother always made an effort to eat with her son when she had the time, and when she didn't she'd leave a note on the table or their fridge that always ended with "I'll be back soon"; but she always took the time to stay when Russell spent the night there.

Russ sat on the side of his futon and pushed himself up. His kimono, which had loosened a bit over the night, probably gave him an untidy appearance, and he didn't doubt that his hair was in the same state.  
He looked to the side, staring at the small pile of neatly folded clothes he'd put there last evening after showering. He set to changing himself, and lowered the kimono on the futon once he was done, flattening it out before straightening and leaving the small storeroom.

The doctor was sitting at the table in the kitchen, and there were two trays in front of him. He was sipping his drink, and when he noticed Russell entering the room, he lowered his small bowl to the table and gazed at the boy.  
Russell didn't notice at first, because he was focused on the food sitting on the tray as he sat down. It smelled delicious, and looked just as good. The times when Russell had stayed at the doctor's over the night were rare, but whenever that was the case the doctor's breakfast usually consisted of white rice, natto and miso soup. Today, there seemed to be small pieces of meat as well.  
Russell looked up to ask what it was, and then noticed the serious expression on the man's face. The question died down before he even asked it. Something felt different this morning.

"Good morning, Russell."  
The doctor had the look of someone who was expecting something.

Russell cautiously dipped his head, wondering what was going on. He kept his words to himself, however, and waited for the doctor to say something else.

"It seems you're rested.  
I can just tell from your face."  
The doctor let go of the bowl he was holding and crossed his arms, his hands sliding inside his large sleeves and out of view. He lightly tilted his head, and Russell felt like he was being studied.

"...Well, Russell? Could you tell me what happened yesterday?"

Russell didn't answer. He wasn't sure what the doctor was expecting of him.

"You are a silent one, no doubt.  
But right now, your silence is quite significant."

The doctor leaned to the side and picked something off the ground, and Russell recognized a newspaper. The piece of paper flopped on the table and Kantera pushed it towards the boy, then tapped the tip of his index finger on an article. There was a picture of a little white church with familiar pretty dark flowers and serpentine vines wrapped around it.

_POTENTIAL ARSONIST ATTEMPTS TO BURN CHURCH_  
Late last night, the police were called to investigate a suspected arson attempt at the Morning Glory Church.  
"Our church was almost set alight and it was most certainly deliberate," says Dogma Toscarina, the local priest in the church which narrowly avoided this grim fate.  
His sister confirms his words with great worry. "There was gaz everywhere. We could've died in there..."  
Police have backed up their suspicions after finding an empty jerrican and matches on the ground next to the church.  
"We urge anyone who may have seen suspicious people hanging around the church late at night to contact the police," says Det. Snr Sgt Rolt. 

Russell didn't read the rest. It was obvious from the title that they hadn't found who was responsible, but the doctor sitting across the table seemed to have guessed.

Kantera calmly gestured towards the newspaper.  
"Was it you?"

Russell didn't hesitate. There was no point in lying, and he didn't really mind Kantera knowing the truth. The consequences didn't matter to him. He nodded, and kept staring at the man.  
Kantera silently returned his stare, as if judging the boy in front of him.

They stayed like this for a while, and then Kantera handed the boy a fork. He knew Russell didn't manage chopsticks very well.  
"Here you are.  
Please, eat."

Russell quietly wrapped his fingers around the fork and retrieved it from the doctor's hand, but his dull blue eyes didn't leave the man's.  
Kantera leaned back slowly and smiled kindly.

"Do not worry, Russell.  
I will not be the judge of your acts,  
nor will I be the jury.  
Your secret is safe with me.  
I am not one to condemn others for what they may or may not have done."

The boy looked down at the food on his tray and lowered his fork in his small bowl of rice. He didn't really know what to answer to that.

Kantera picked up a piece of meat with his chopsticks.  
"I have secrets of my own.  
Every human has a dark side to them,  
and we are no exception to that rule."

Russell quietly nodded at the doctor's odd words, still staring at the food. Something felt changed between them, and he didn't know what exactly, but he thought that he caught the gist of it: the doctor had done bad things too. And Russell wasn't in trouble for what he'd attempted to do last night.

In front of him, Kantera slid his chopsticks in his mouth and started chewing on his piece of meat. Russell started eating as well. They didn't talk during breakfast, each of them wandering in their own mind, and the newspaper stayed where it was, laid out on the table.

Russell helped put away the dishes once they were cleaned, and told the man he had to leave. Kantera accompanied him out of his living space into the warehouse, and stopped right in front of the green curtain. Before pulling it aside, he looked down at the boy standing next to him and smiled softly.  
"Remember, Russell.  
No matter what happens,  
no matter what you do,  
I will not condemn you."

Russell looked up at him pensively, still a bit puzzled by the doctor's earlier words. He didn't know if asking the doctor what bad things he had done was a good idea, but it seemed fair to him that he should know, since the doctor knew about his arson attempt.  
So he asked the doctor what bad things he had done.

Kantera seemed taken aback, and his expression darkened. He didn't answer right away, and looked away from the boy's expectant face. His gaze rested upon the red lilies gathered next to the green curtain, waiting to be brought out front in the store to decorate the counter.  
In a soft voice, without looking away from the elegant flowers, he asked:  
"Have you ever done anything else before,  
aside from the church?"

Russell said yes, his voice just as quiet.

Kantera finally looked at him again, his grey eyes trained on the boy's blue ones, judging the depth of Russell's answer. His lips parted and he asked:  
"Tell me, Russell...  
The darkness I see in you, it makes me wonder.  
Have you ever tried to kill someone with your own hands?"

A green hooded figure briefly flashed in Russell's mind, instantly followed by the image of brilliant white hair tumbling down the back of a yellow dress, both memories fading just as quickly as they'd appeared, and he nodded.

"I see..."  
Kantera fell silent, studying the boy's face. Then his arms uncrossed and he bended down slightly, settling a gentle hand on the boy's shoulder, and a very small, almost imperceptible smile appeared in his lips. The doctor had the same undescribable expression he'd had the day he'd told Russell about the red spider lilies for the first time.  
"Then you should know that I've done the same.  
That is the bad thing I've done."

Kantera gazed intensely at Russell's face, and his eyes were serious and somewhat... pained. Russell didn't understand why, as the doctor wasn't injured, but he didn't ask any more. He could sense that Kantera had told him something extremely important, like a secret, and that he wasn't supposed to add anything to it. Russell had no doubt that the pain he could see in the doctor's eyes was linked to what he'd just said.  
So he just nodded silently.

The doctor let go of his shoulder, and the heavy air lingering over his expression vanished when he smiled lightly at the boy and pulled the curtain open.  
"Well then, Russell.  
Run along."

The boy stared at the man for just another moment, before thanking him for letting him spend the night here and stepping into the store. He crossed the counter and walked along the shelves and drawers until he reached the glass door. The wooden chime rang above him when he pulled it open, and he left the shop without looking back.

Kantera had killed someone.  
The gentle, smiling doctor was responsible for someone's death.  
However, it didn't seem like the doctor was the same as Russell, because contrary to the boy, there were feelings that showed on his face. Russell wondered if the undescribable expression the doctor had worn earlier was the one people had when they felt that legendary guilt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin.  
> Is this how you imagined it go down, the revelation of Kantera being a murderer? Because I don't see how I could've written it out any other way. It's not like he could go "Oh hey, Russ, guess what? Imurderedsomeone." Anyway, hope you liked this chapter as well, and sorry for the slow updates! It takes me a lot of time and inspiration to write all my stories, and my muse has currently been away. I hope she'll come back soon.  
> Thanks for reading, and leave a comment if you feel like it!


	17. Friendly Neighbourhood Psychopath, Dirty Clothes, Warm Sunlight and Birds

Russell didn't go back home to get his stuff for school, deciding it didn't matter if he went there empty-handed: he wouldn't be staying there anyway. He just wanted to see if his classmates had heard about what he'd done, and it interested him to know how they were reacting to the news of a potential arsonist in town. Russell had always had trouble curbing his curiosity.

He was already late for first period, but that didn't matter. When he reached the building, he sat on the school's steps and waited for ten o'clock to roll around, wondering if Chris would be there.  
A dull, aching pain suddenly reminded him yet again that his elbow needed another painkiller to stop acting up, and he looked down at his sling. Maybe he should've gone home after all. His elbow wasn't as swollen as it had been on Friday, but it was still a bit bruised and not completely healed, judging from the pain. Running away from the church probably hadn't helped it any. Russell had noticed that his body didn't heal as fast as Chris': whenever they got into scuffles with costumers, his friend's bruises always disappeared earlier than his. He would've liked to know why that was.

Russell looked away from his arm, his gaze sweeping across the street. There were a lot of people walking around, and cars drifting up and down the road. He had to squint because of the sun's bright rays. It was a beautiful day, and Russell wondered if the sky would've been any darker if he had gone through with burning down the church.  
One of the passerbys was holding a newspaper, and the boy caught sight of the article with a picture of the small white church. What would that passerby think when he read about it?

Russell leaned back against the step he was on and tilted his head back, closing his eyes and letting the sun's beams warm his face. He hadn't done it in the end, because he'd thought of Tabasa again. Avoiding the zookeeper had done nothing for him at all.   
Maybe it was time to return to the zoo. It seemed that Tabasa would stay in his mind no matter what he did, and he wanted to know why. Maybe Tabasa would know.

He distantly heard the school's bell ring, so he looked down and pushed himself off the steps, climbing up to the school's entrance and letting himself drift along the river of students down the halls until he reached his classroom. As soon as he took as step inside, Chris' voice called out to him.

"Russ! Hey!"

Russell's gaze swiveled to his left and he saw his friend beckoning him closer. He walked towards Chris' desk and said hi.

Chris was practically beaming with excitement.  
"Did you hear about the church?"

Russell nodded.

"Damn, this is crazy!  
To think there'd be an actual psychopath in our town!"

Russell stared at his friend, wondering what Chris would do if he knew that the psychopath was him. The brunette looked like he couldn't stay in one place, and he kept moving his hands around as he spoke.

"That's the church you go to, right?  
What if it had really gone down?  
Plus, I heard the priest was inside, with his little sis.  
They could've actually died, I mean, seriously died!  
How messed up is that?"

Chris' hands stopped flitting in every direction and he gazed expectantly at Russell, waiting for him to react. When he understood what Chris was waiting for, Russell said: pretty messed up.

"I know right?  
It's fuckin' insane, dude,  
I bet everyone's freaking out about what to do with that kind of person so close to where we live!  
My mom is, that's for sure."

Chris didn't ask about what Russell's parents thought about it, because he knew the kind of parents Russell had, and they most certainly were not the type to worry about anything. Too far lost in alcohol and sex.  
Russell shrugged like he didn't care, and Chris knew that it was indeed the case.

It'll pass, said Russell.

"Y'think?" asked Chris rather dubiously.  
"I don' think that's the kind of thing you can just gloss over."

Russell shrugged again.  
Then he completely changed the subject and suggested that they both leave the classroom.

Surprisingly enough, Chris didn't immediately jump on the proposal.  
"You just got here, dude, what's the big idea?  
Did you come jus' to get me?"

Kind of, answered Russell.  
He didn't feel like staying in class all day.

"Hey, what's goin' on?" Chris smiled widely.  
"Usually I'm the one to drag you outside with me."

Russell gazed at Chris. He was right, this wasn't the way things usually went.  
The blonde looked at the other people in the class. They all looked a bit agitated, no doubt about the news, and the teacher would soon come back. For some mysterious reason, Chris seemed to want to stay in class, since he still hadn't accepted Russell's proposal.  
The blonde looked back at his friend and said: never mind. Then he stepped away from Chris, but not towards his desk.

"Russ?" said the brunette behind him.

Russell didn't answer and started heading for the door. Maybe he could spend the day at the zoo- but that meant going back home to get money. Well, that way he'd take a painkiller for the day, so it didn't really matter. Zoo it was, then, and if he wanted to go to the zoo, then he had to go alone. Chris staying in school would actually work out better than if his friend came along.

"Where're you goin'?" called out Chris, his voice interrogative and puzzled, but already a bit distant.

The blonde didn't turn around or pause, and when he slipped out of the classroom he saw his teacher walking down the hall. Fortunately, he had the time to hide behind an older student before the man saw him, and his teacher walked right by him without noticing his presence.  
Once he was sure the path was clear, Russell hurried out of the school and down the steps. It hadn't been any use coming to school in the end, but now he knew what he wanted to make of his day, and skipping school had always been the least of his problems.  
_

His father wasn't there when Russell came home twenty minutes later, but luckily his mother still was, which meant that her handbag was there as well. She didn't say anything to him, even if she noticed that he was there. She glanced at him when he noticed her in the bedroom, and then kept picking up the clothes on the ground like he wasn't there. There was someone in the bed, but Russell didn't try and see who. He already knew.

He waited for his mother to step in the next room with her arms full of clothes that weren't all hers, and when he heard the laundry machine click open, he quickly slipped his hand in his mother's handbag and snatched up a bill which he immediately hid in his pocket. If she was doing the laundry right now, then she would leave to work in about fourty minutes, leaving the man in the house by himself so that he would take back his clothes once they were dry and then go back to where he came from without locking the door.   
Their door was rarely locked. After all, they had nothing to steal, aside from Russell's game console, and his parents didn't care about what was his. They could always buy another cheap TV if this one ever disappeared- and who would ever want to steal such an old, worn-out TV anyway?

Russell then grabbed one of the painkillers hidden in his drawer, swallowed it dry, and left.  
_

Russell had to make the trip back to the school and a bit further beyond, where the zoo was. His heart felt vibrant with a feeling he knew, but didn't understand why he was feeling it: anticipation. It seemed he was excited for some reason. Did he want to see the zookeeper that much? Why?  
He hadn't realized until just now how he'd missed going to the zoo and seeing Tabasa.  
He didn't feel reassured by this discovery.

He paid the entrance fee, and then took a few steps ahead and looked around. He didn't know where he was supposed to find Tabasa at this time of day, and walking around the zoo in hopes of coming across him probably wouldn't work out too well.  
Russell turned back on his heels and stopped in front of the counter where he'd paid for the ticket, waiting for the man behind it to notice him. When he did, Russell asked if the man knew where the zookeeper was.

"The zookeeper?  
Sure, buddy, he should be in the Birdhouse at this time of day.  
Can you find it on your own?  
Do you know where it is?"

Russell said yes, and then stepped away from the man. The Birdhouse was between the Terrarium and the African River, which weren't far from the entrance. However, the Birdhouse was pretty big, and if Tabasa was inside then Russell would have to wait for him to finish before he could see him.  
Well, that didn't really matter. After all, Russell had the whole day ahead of him.

When he reached the Birdhouse, Russell circled the building to find the door reserved to the zoo personnel. He found it half-hidden by the shadows of an overhang of branches above the door. The back of the building was empty, save for the heavy shrubbery, so he sat down cross-legged next to the door and waited.

It was warm outside. The birds in the birdhouse were chirping loudly, and Russell found their chant oddly appeasing. The sunny weather, the calm, the solitude... Russell liked it. It would've been nice to have a life so tranquil and peaceful all the time.  
Russell could feel his eyelids grow heavy with drowsiness under the sunlight, grass tickling the skin right above his socks where the hem of his pants wasn't covering it. Yes, this was very nice.  
He wished he had something softer than the wall to lean against, so he could sleep. He was feeling tired, even if he'd slept well at Kantera's.

Suddenly, he heard the door next to him click, and he moved away from it so that he wouldn't hinder its opening. It revealed a familiar green silhouette, only today the zookeeper wasn't wearing his hood, probably because it would've been too hot to. For the first time, Russell saw what Tabasa looked like without his hood, and something inside of him wiggled when he saw the tuft of hair bouncing around on top of the zookeeper's head. Something that made him feel like he was being tickled inside.

When Tabasa noticed the small figure standing next to him, he had a slight movement of surprise and met the dull blue eyes of the boy he hadn't seen for a month. Not only was Tabasa incredibly surprised by this sudden and unexpected apparition, he also noticed something odd yet pleasing on the boy's face: a tiny, flitting smile.  
However, it was gone so fast that he wasn't sure he'd seen it. His eyes widened and he said:  
"Russell?"

A month ago, the boy had disappeared without warning, and Tabasa hadn't understood why. He still didn't, and now he was even more confused. Last time Russell had missed a day, he'd been injured. When he'd disappeared a second time, Tabasa had been worried, and as days and weeks passed, he'd ended up thinking that the boy wouldn't come back. That maybe something worse had happened.

Russell said hello.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin.  
> Woot woot, Tabasa is back! I'm way happier than I should be, I mean I knew it would happen soon being the writer and all, but I'm just so happy to reintroduce my favourite hooded green cinnamon bun in the story! Hurray!  
> Seriously though, I hope you're at least half as hyped as I am. I bet you guys will really like the next chapter. Here's a hint: Tabasa's gonna flash his zookeeper skillz. I think that's good way to say it... You'll tell me.  
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	18. How to Calm Down Frightened Rabbits

The zookeeper let go of the two buckets in his hands and grabbed the boy by the shoulders, his deep blue eyes briefly dipping down, noticing the sling, and then flying back up to Russell's face.  
"Are you all right?  
What happened to you?  
....What happened to your arm?"

Russell was taken aback by the slew of questions and Tabasa's frantic demeanor. He didn't answer.

The zookeeper stared at him some more, then seemed to realize that he was holding the boy's shoulders and let go of him, instead kneeling on the ground in front of him.  
"I'm sorry, Russell... I'm asking too many questions at once.  
...But first of all, and most importantly, are you all right?"

Russell nodded, puzzled by the man's serious expression. Yes, everything was fine.

The zookeeper sighed, briefly closing his eyes, and when he opened them again Russell felt like he was being pierced by the intensity of his blue gaze.

"What happened?  
....Why did you disappear?"

Russell gazed back at him.  
He hadn't thought about an explanation for that. He hadn't thought that Tabasa would ask.  
Tabasa looked a bit upset, so Russell spontaneously said sorry.

The zookeeper leaned back a bit, studying Russell's face. Then he sighed.  
"Apologizing, huh...  
I thought you'd gotten hurt again or something...  
I thought you weren't coming back.  
You really gave me a fright, you know..."

But Russell didn't want to tell him that he'd disappeared because thinking of the zookeeper had prevented him from killing Gardenia. That was probably a very bad idea. After all, Tabasa wasn't like Kantera. Russell ended up saying that he didn't want to tell.

Tabasa frowned slightly, and he had the face of someone who couldn't figure out the solution to a particularly complicated enigma.  
"...Why?"

Russell looked away and said that it wasn't important.

Tabasa briefly closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, his face was very serious.  
"...No, Russell, that's not how it works.  
I need to understand.  
It's important to me, I need to know why you suddenly disappeared.  
You can't just leave me like this without warning...  
....Do you understand?"

No, Russell didn't understand. He'd just come here to ask him a question.

Tabasa leaned back on his heels. It was still exhausting talking with this little guy.  
He pondered the situation for a moment. It was clear to him that Russell would not open up any time soon, but he didn't want to yield right away. He didn't want Russell to think he could pull this kind of crap and then expect Tabasa to go along with whatever he wanted, even if it was just answering a question.

"...Okay, look, Russell.  
Let's make a deal.  
...You can ask me that question if you answer one of mine first, okay?"

Russell tilted his head slightly to the side, as if considering the offer, and then nodded in agreement.

"...All right.  
Then tell me what happened to your arm."

The boy's eyes flitted down towards his sling before returning to the zookeeper's face.  
His mouth opened, and he said he'd fallen on a table.

"...Was it an accident?" asked the man.

Russell didn't answer right away, but he did end up saying yes.

Tabasa noticed his brief hesitation, and asked:  
"What I meant was, did someone cause this to happen?"

This time, Russell didn't say anything, which by now Tabasa knew how to interpret as admission.  
The zookeeper studied the boy's face closely.  
If he was feeling any distress, his face didn't betray any of it.

"...Russell, I let it slide last time, for your eye.  
But this time, I want to know what really happened.  
Usually, I don't insist, but do you really think I haven't noticed how often you come here with bruises?  
....Is someone hurting you?"

Russell didn't answer, his dull eyes remaining still as he stared at the zookeeper.

"You can tell me.  
....Are you being bullied?"

Russell averted his eyes.  
He didn't want to say.  
His voice was strangely quiet, quieter than usual.

Tabasa felt like pushing any further would break some thin line drawn between them, so he softly grabbed the boy by the shoulder again, and when Russell looked back at him, he smiled in what he hoped was a comforting way.  
"It's fine, Russ.  
....I get it.  
You've said enough.  
You can ask me that question of yours now."

There was no use insisting. Besides, Tabasa was starting to get a fair idea of why Russell was often sporting bruises. All he needed to know now was the person responsible, but each thing in its own time.

The boy didn't speak at first.

Russell was struggling with his question. He didn't know how to formulate his thoughts. The whole thinking-of-Tabasa thing was pretty vague in the first place, even to him, so how was he supposed to share this problem with Tabasa himself?

The zookeeper wasn't saying anything, patiently waiting for Russell to find the right words.

Finally, the blonde looked up again and opened his mouth, and Tabasa noticed how hesitant he seemed to be.  
Russell asked the zookeeper if he knew why he kept appearing in the boy's mind, despite them not meeting or talking for a month. If he knew why this was happening to him.

Tabasa's brows flew up. The way Russell spoke about it, it sounded like some kind of disease. He wasn't sure what to think about the question, and he cautiously asked:  
"...Do you mean...  
Something like, you think about me often?"

Russell looked pensive. Not... often, really, more like during important moments.

"...What kind of important moments?"

Russell didn't answer that question.

Tabasa didn't even try to interpret this silence, and instead tried to answer Russell's original question. He didn't know if Russell was normal enough to know the concept of caring for someone, and he was a bit afraid that the boy would think Tabasa was taking him for an idiot if he did know about it, but he had a hypothesis and he was going to roll with it.  
"... I'm not sure, but it probably means that you care enough about me to think about me, even when we don't see each other.  
Do you think that could be it?"

Russell's eyes widened almost imperceptibly, but Tabasa was keeping a close eye on his reactions and this didn't escape his attention.

Russell didn't understand. How was it possible that he cared about Tabasa?  
He looked down at his hands. How had that influenced the way his fingers shook when he'd almost burned down the church?  
However complicated it was for him to understand the reason behind it, Russell found that in the deepest recesses of his heart, he felt it was possible that he cared about Tabasa. Why else would he have thought about Tabasa shunning him if he ever went through with killing? Why else would he have felt... worried by the perspective of the zookeeper disliking him? Because that had been worry he'd felt, he recognized it now.  
But he was so careful not to care... He was so careful not to feel involved...  
He didn't understand how this had happened.

He looked up at Tabasa, at the zookeeper with the green hooded coat and the nice blue eyes and the colourful hair ornament and the bouncing tuft of hair on the top of his head, at the man who cared for animals and felt worried when Russell had an injured eye. And he realized he felt scared, again, but a different type of fright: not the uneasy apprehension he felt when he didn't understand feelings or people or himself, but the breath-shortening, heart-stopping, finger-shaking fright he'd felt when a stranger had tried to drag him to his house, when he'd first considered that what was happening to him wasn't sickness but a very real, very new way of feeling. He was scared for himself. He was scared that he was feeling a good feeling. He was scared that this unknown, strange, oddly pleasing feeling was going to change him for good.  
He didn't want to change. It was better not to feel what normal people felt, it was better not to care, because then it didn't hurt as much as it used to.  
He was scared of feeling pain again.

He didn't want this, he realized. He'd always known that he had to avoid caring, but now that it had become a frightening reality, he felt like it was too late to escape, that no matter how long or how far he ran away from Tabasa, this feeling of caring would remain. And then there would be pain.

Because caring always resulted in pain, and the very last time he'd felt it twisting his heart and crushing his soul, something inside of him had snapped and bled out along his bunny. He'd become unable to feel pain, and he'd also become unable of feeling any feelings at all except some like curiosity. Up until now, he'd managed to avoid any and every kind of deep pain.  
At least, that's what he had thought until now. He'd thought he was safe, until right this very moment where he realized that the broken thing inside of him could still be fixed. And he didn't want that. He didn't want it to be fixed.

Was it too late? He already cared about Tabasa.  
The zookeeper was just staring at him, as if expecting him to speak.  
Russell didn't want to speak. He didn't know what to say. He just felt scared.  
He took a step back.

Tabasa started feeling a bit apprehensive when the boy looked up at him with eyes that suddenly didn't seem as dull as they usually were, and there was something in them like... an internal struggle.  
For a moment, Tabasa remembered what Russell had done to him when they'd met for the first time. He was reminded that the last time he'd seen any kind of expression on the boy's face, there had been painful consequences. He was so used to the boy's small size, wide blue eyes and young, expressionless face by now that he'd almost forgotten how dangerous Russell could really be. He looked around quickly to check that there were no potential weapons around for Russell to use, but there were none aside from a few pebbles on the ground.  
The zookeeper looked back at Russell, and then he finally noticed that something was different this time. What ticked him off was the way Russell was staring at him like he was some kind of threat.

A threat. The last thing someone could ever consider the zookeeper as, especially when that someone was the boy who had attempted to kill him.

When Russell took a step back, Tabasa understood that the boy was going to bolt out of here like a squirrel up a tree if he made the wrong move, and that would be the end of their relationship, whatever that was.

In a cautious voice, he asked:  
"Russell?"

The boy took another step back and just continued staring at him. One of his arms was half-raised, as if about to shield himself from something.

"You're not going anywhere, are you?"

Everything about Russell's face was blank except for his eyes, which looked deeply unsettled; otherwise, he wasn't reacting to his words. Tabasa reached an open hand out to the boy, but Russell took two steps back and slowly shook his head.

The zookeeper understood that this required different measures than usual, and he started talking to the boy in the same soft voice he used when he had to calm down one of the rabbits in Little Farm after a particularly noisy kid spooked it. If Russell took one more step back, and if he decided to run, then catching him before he managed to hide in the crowd of tourists and visitors would be near impossible with that head start. And then, bye-bye Russell.

"Hey, Russ.  
Come on, buddy...  
What's wrong?"

The boy's blue eyes were trained on him and Tabasa was pretty sure that if Russell had any whiskers, they'd be twitching in fright. He had no idea what had gotten him so badly scared, but Tabasa was rather confident in his skills of comforting spooked little guys- even if this one wasn't a rabbit.

Tabasa started rising from his kneeling position very, very slowly, his arm still cautiously outstretched towards the boy.  
"...What's the matter, Russ?  
Are you scared of something...?"

The boy's eyes followed the man as he stood up, his body tense and poised to run. He wasn't really listening to the words coming out of the zookeeper's mouth, but something about his voice kept him in place. It was a voice with light, soft intonations, but firm enough that it made Russell hesitate.

"Listen, Russell...  
There's nothing to be afraid of here.  
Nothing."

Tabasa took a leisurely step forward, the movement so easy and innate that Russell didn't realize that the zookeeper was acting any different than he usually did. He knew he had to back away, but his feet felt frozen in place, and he was stuck there, he was stuck in front of the zookeeper who was still speaking to him in that gentle, steady voice which he didn't want to ignore.

"It's just me.  
...Me, Tabasa.  
Just the zookeeper.  
Why are you afraid?"

Something within Russell's stomach was trying to get him to move, deep down in the pit of his stomach, cold and urgent, but there was a much bigger, warmer, heavier something closing in on his heart, preventing him from following that impulse. It was keeping him where he was, assuredly, but it didn't feel _bad_ ; his heart was held in place but it also felt versatile and light, and he was lost. He was completely, utterly lost.

"We haven't gone to Little Farm yet, you know?  
The rabbits will be sad not to see you..."

The zookeeper wanted him to stay, when all he wanted to do was run.  
Why couldn't he run?  
Why couldn't he break free from Tabasa's calm voice?

"What is it that's scaring you, Russell?  
... There's nothing scary here."  
Tabasa took another step, slowly, watching the boy's face for any sign of flight. But Russell wasn't backing away. In fact, the trouble showing through his blue eyes seemed to be dissipating gradually as Tabasa kept conversing in a level voice.

Russell didn't understand what was happening right now, under the sun, right here, between him and the zookeeper: but there was something taking shape, like a link of some sort. 

"Russell," said Tabasa as he took a third cautious step forward in the most natural way he could manage. It looked like it was working: the boy's shoulders were progressively easing out of their hunched position. 

Russell had to angle his face back to keep staring into Tabasa's eyes as the zookeeper got closer, and he did, unconsciously. The boy could see that the man's blue eyes were showing a meaningful emotion, but one he didn't recognize.

Tabasa asked with a soothing voice:  
"...You know I care for you too, right?  
You don't have to be afraid about anything."

Some small, flitting thing briefly appeared behind the lost haze of the boy's pupils, and for a moment Tabasa thought he'd hit a landmine and that the boy was going to vanish right then and there; but nothing happened. The boy stayed were he was.  
What Tabasa didn't know was that Russell had just realized something: one, that Tabasa was telling the truth, because he'd shown worry before, and that the zookeeper was somehow trying to look after him. Two, that Tabasa had the ability to care, and that he didn't seem in pain despite it, which meant that there was maybe a way to care without suffering.

However, this realization was overcome by Russell's sudden notice of the zookeeper's closeness, and he almost took a step back. But then he understood that although Tabasa was close, he'd gotten back on his knees, and that he wasn't trying to tower over Russell.

The man reached out again, his fingers mere centimeters away from Russell's shoulder, something the boy didn't fail to notice but couldn't bring himself to do anything about. Tabasa was smiling warmly at him, his expression as friendly and benevolent as Russell had ever seen it.

"...Russell.  
Don't be afraid."

And then the zookeeper's placating hand lightly settled on Russell's shoulder.  
Russell stayed.  
The link was getting clearer, and what he'd only glimpsed earlier was materializing between them into something real and present. It was starting to feel like Tabasa and him would always be connected somehow. As scary and disturbing the thought was, it also made Russell feel... somewhat safe.

"There, buddy, there.  
...That's it.  
See...? Nothing scary here.  
... You're okay.  
Everything's fine."

The situation which had felt so strained just moments prior loosened when Russell averted his eyes, and Tabasa felt the boy lean into his hand, as if accepting the zookeeper's hold on his shoulder.  
The man smiled again, and lifted his other hand to pat the boy's blonde head.

"...There, see, you're okay."  
The zookeeper kept petting him for a while, and when the boy seemed to have calmed down completely he asked: "Feeling better, Russell?"

The boy looked back up at him and silently nodded. Indeed, there seemed to be no trace of his earlier panic left in his eyes.

"Good," said Tabasa, and he genuinely felt that it was.  
"...You want to talk about what just happened?"

This time, Russell shook his head in a definite refusal.  
Quietly, as usual.

Tabasa gave his head one last pat and then let go of Russell to get back to his feet.  
"That's fine, don't worry.  
Let's go feed the the foxes.  
...Remember them?"

Russell nodded. He remembered the foxes. Bat-eared foxes, a latin name which ended in -lotis, he thought.

"Yeah, that's it.  
_Otocyon megalotis_.  
You've got quite the memory on you, Russ, that's impressive..."

Russell shrugged like it was nothing special and started walking.  
Tabasa picked up the two buckets he was carrying out of the Birdhouse and hurried after the boy. He wished he knew what had thrown Russell in such a troubled state, but he didn't want to push the boy's limits, not after what had just happened.  
Especially not now that Russell had come back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin.  
> Russell is so confused... Tabasa too. At least they managed to stay together for now. Told you Tabasa would flash his zookeeper skills! He's so good with small critters.  
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	19. Guilt can Kill

Russell closed the book in front of him and stared at the cover. The illustration was a tall grey brick tower with only one window, and there were strange symbols carved in the roof. Russell never managed to make out what they were, since the drawing as cut off there at the top of the cover. A rope hung down the single, dark window dug into the side of the tower. The story told of an old, old witch who lived alone and kept all the knowledge of the world to herself inside her many magic books, but was one day convinced by a lost, wandering girl that it was better to share it than to keep it. It was an interesting story, and Russell liked to read it because it also had very nice-looking illustrations. The witch's face was always hidden underneath her dark hood, and he'd given up long ago on trying to catch a glimpse of her eyes on the many drawings depicting her. It seemed the artist's intention had been to keep it a secret what she really looked like.  
The witch reminded him of his grandma. She also kept a lot of books to herself.  
The girl, on the other hand, didn't remind him of any girl he knew. After all, he didn't know many, at least not enough to learn about their behaviour and characteristics. The girl did remind him of Chris, however: she was a bit rash in her actions, and looked a bit impulsive, just like his friend. She didn't show much respect for the witch, either, but the witch in the story didn't mind her talking like that.

Russell looked up and gazed at the people in the library with him. Passerbys. Strangers. People who didn't know him, people who didn't care. They would forget him and he would forget them. He wondered if any of them had broken insides like him.  
He looked back down at the book. Tabasa was in his thoughts, again. He couldn't shake free of them. He'd felt oddly appeased by Tabasa's touch at the zoo, despite feeling blinding fright just moments before. There was something strange going on between them, and every time he remembered about it, he felt a twist in his gut. There was no nice zookeeper to calm him down at those times, and he felt anxious. What if it really was a bad idea to continue seeing Tabasa? What if he'd been on the right path avoiding the man? What if he had been close to getting better, but had crushed his chances by going to the zoo that day? There were so many what if's in his head that he couldn't get a moment's rest.

Russell rose from his chair and walked over to the shelf to put back the book. Then his gaze roamed over the other storybooks that lined the shelves. He didn't feel like reading another book now that he was thinking about Tabasa. He turned around, and walked to Chris's seat. The boy looked up from the magazine he was holding, and Russell saw that he was staring at an ad for a toy gun. He wondered why there was an ad for a toy gun in a science-themed magazine, and chalked it up to adult logic.  
Chris grinned at him. "Cool, huh? Mom's not gettin' me one, that's for sure, but I'm still askin' for it."  
Now Russell remembered it was going to be Christmas soon, and realized that was probably the reason why there was such an ad in the magazine. Maybe Chris wasn't going to get exactly what he wanted, but his mom would surely try to make their Christmas a good one nonetheless. He himself wasn't going to ask for anything this year either, and there would be no change of decoration in his house. Maybe his parents would buy themselves a bottle of cheap wine to celebrate, just for the sake of celebrating. Just for the illusion of a special day. There would be nothing for him, as usual.  
When his friend didn't answer, Chris closed his magazine. "You wanna go?"  
Russell nodded again, so Chris stood up and put on his coat. Russell went to grab his own ratty jacket, and he joined Chris at the entrance. His friend hadn't put back the magazine and had left it lying on the table, unconcerned by the library's rules and the general concept of good behaviour. They walked outside. It was cold, and Russell shivered. The wind was fickle, its breath weak but snaking into the holes of his jacket and sliding across his back and belly. 

Chris noticed his shaking and unwrapped the scarf from his neck to hand it to Russell. The blonde looked at it.  
"Take it, Russ. Don' wanna get sick."  
Russell said thanks and donned the scarf.  
"Man," sighed Chris, digging his hands in his coat pockets. "Why don't your folks give you better clothes?"  
Russell didn't answer, and Chris wasn't surprised. Whenever he asked about why Russell's parents ever did anything, his only answer was either silence or a shrug. He understood why Russell only answered that way: it wasn't like he could do anything about the way his parents acted. Chris himself could only help so much.  
"You can keep the scarf, I've got another one at home," said Chris.  
Russell shook his head. He couldn't just take the scarf like that, it wasn't his.  
"Well now it is," retorted Chris. "I can't get you a coat, but I can give you this. So take it."  
Russell buried the lower half of his face in the scarf and said thanks, again.  
"You're welcome," smiled Chris, and then jokingly added: "Let's jus' say it's your Christmas present."  
Russell looked at him, and the look on his face reminded Chris that Russell wasn't very good with interpreting tone of voice. He wrapped his arm around the other's shoulder and loudly said: "Don't look at me like that! I just felt like givin' it to you, it's not really a Christmas present. You don't have to feel bad about it just because you don't have a present for me."  
The smaller boy looked back ahead. His hunched shoulders, still shivering from the cold, felt thin under Chris's arm, and Chris wondered yet again if Russell's parents even cared about how well he ate. It was hard to guess how difficult things were in Russell's home, beyond the money problems and the hitting. No one really knew what went on in there, even Chris. He'd only gone there a few times, when the parents weren't around. It had been pretty obvious money problems weren't the only reason why Russell had such shitty clothes, when Chris had seen what was supposed to be his friend's bed. Money wasn't an excuse for everything.  
"Wanna eat at my house? How about you spend the night?" suddenly asked Chris. His mother wasn't especially glad when Russell came over, because it meant having to feed another mouth with nothing in return, but Chris felt bad whenever he thought about Russell's home. If this was the only thing he could do, then he'd do it.  
But Russell shook his head. There was something he had to do.  
"All right," said Chris. He didn't ask what it was. If Russell wasn't telling him, then that simply meant he didn't want him to know.

They parted ways three streets away from the library, and Russell headed to the eastern part of town. He'd decided to go see Kantera to talk about Tabasa.  
The doctor welcomed him as soon as the jingle sounded when he pushed the door. There were a few people in the shop, as it wasn't closing time yet, but Russell was taken aback. He hadn't thought there would be anyone there besides Kantera: he was used to the empty shop. The doctor smiled at him from behind the counter.  
"Hello, Russell.  
What brings you along on such a cold day?  
Are you looking for a bit of shelter, perhaps?"  
Russell just needed to talk. The doctor's look grew concerned.  
"Ah, then you will have to wait a bit.  
I hope it is nothing bad?"  
The boy shook his head, walked behind one of the shelves and out of view of the doctor and the people, and waited. He saw that the red spider lilies were withering. The doctor would have to change them soon.

When the clock finally reached closing hours, Kantera locked the door and turned to Russell, who was still standing behind the same shelf. Before he could say anything, however, Russell walked up to him and asked Kantera if it happened sometimes for him to be so preoccupied with someone he couldn't do anything else but think about that person.  
The doctor smiled strangely.  
"Why, yes, it happens.  
Unfortunately, it is not always a pleasing matter.  
Why do you ask me such a question?"  
Russell told him about the nice zookeeper that made him feel different from usual, that made him feel like he could change inside. It was vague, because he didn't want to get into too much detail, but it seemed like the doctor understood anyway.  
Kantera didn't answer right away. He beckoned the boy towards the back room, and they walked through the green curtain. Then the doctor sat down, and Russell did the same. The doctor stayed silent a long while, his hands laying flat in his lap, his gaze lost in thought. Russell noticed that the teapot which was usually on the table was on one of the room's red shelves. The silence stretched out, and Russell thought the doctor was trying to find an explanation, but Kantera surprised him with another question.  
"Russell, tell me...  
Do you sometimes feel like you lost something..."  
Kantera trailed off, then picked up his sentence again.  
"Do you sometimes feel like a piece of you broke away?"

The boy considered the man's question. For the longest time, he hadn't realized that was the way he felt, and when he had, it was because he'd discovered there was a possibility to pick up that piece and stick it back where it belonged.

"How could that be?" asked the doctor. "How could you put yourself back together?"

Russell shrugged. He had no idea.  
The doctor looked down at his hands. His face was strange, like something within him was fighting to get out.

"Russell... I thought..."  
He struggled with his words, then sighed. His shoulders sagged.  
"Never mind that.  
Then, about that zookeeper...  
He is the one who is changing you, isn't he?"

Russell stared at Kantera. He wasn't sure if he was changing, but Tabasa had helped him see that it was possible.

Kantera smiled another one of his strange smiles.  
"Yes, Russell, you are changing.  
Your eyes were different when we first met."  
He hesitated, and then continued.  
"You and I were the same, not so long ago.  
I..."  
He stopped, and closed his eyes. It looked like the doctor had many things to say, but didn't know how to, and Russell had no idea what to do in that kind of situation. So he remained still and silent.

"I do not know how much you have changed,  
but I need to know if..."  
Kantera's gaze drifted to his left, towards the small corner of the kitchen. Then he looked back at Russell with different eyes, in which the pain had been replaced by something new. They seemed clearer, although his voice was still hesitant.  
"Russell, you have killed before, have you not?"

Russell's eyes didn't flicker. They were trained on the doctor.

Kantera watched the boy's expressionless face for a moment, then looked away. He got up and walked to one of the drawers next to his bed, pulled it open and picked up an object from within. Then he turned around and got closer to Russell to show him what he was holding.  
It was a picture of an old man with the same slanted eyes as Kantera. The portrait had a black frame, with a black ribbon wound around it.  
Russell stared at the picture, then at the doctor. Kantera was contemplating him with a bizarre expression.  
"This was my grandfather, the one I spoke to you about so many times before."  
Kantera set down the portrait on the table.  
"You should know what I did.  
My grandfather, he... He is the one.  
The spider lilies in my shop are for him.  
He is the one I killed."

Russell didn't say a word.

"I did love him, you know.  
He was truly the person I cared the most about.  
Have you ever cared about someone so much,  
that you could not bear to watch them wither?"

Russell didn't say a word.

"I respected him deeply.  
He was clever and wise, and so marvelously gifted in medicine making...  
Yet he grew old, and senile, and he whose mouth once spun such wisdom merely hung open.  
He started to forget. He could not even make his own medication any longer.  
Do you know how it feels, to watch a loved one slowly lose themselves?"

The pain bled in Kantera's gaze again as he spoke.  
Russell didn't say a word.

"Grandfather loved manjuu, more than you and me.  
Even as he grew older, and older, and forgot to eat and lacked appetite...  
If I offered him manjuu, he would happily eat it.  
I would go down the mountain to the confectionery, day after day, simply to see his beaming face."

Kantera lifted his hands to his face, hiding his eyes. He kept standing there, next to the silent boy.

"In the end, he would not eat his medicine unless it was slipped in his manjuu.  
Ah, Grandfather... He told me it was the same as always, that manjuu."

Kantera fell to his knees slowly, softly.   
Russell watched him from where he sat, gazed at his trembling shoulders.

"He told me it tasted the same as always, even if it was the last.   
Even if the medicine was different.  
I could not endure it anymore, I was at wit's end."

His voice was shaky. His shoulders drooped, so low it seemed he was carrying the weight of the world on his back.

"I killed him. I killed him, and ran away.  
Yet the day I poisoned him, I poisoned myself.  
I have been riddled with guilt ever since.  
Do you know it? The guilt of having killed someone?  
I thought I had done a merciful act,  
but there was never meant to be a happy ending.  
I could only try to escape."

Kantera lifted his face out of his hands and looked up at the boy, tears sliding down his face. His face was a tortured mask, one Russell had never seen him wear before.

"Kiling him was even more quick and hollow than I thought.  
He was there, and then he was not.  
You understand, do you not?"

Then Kantera gently grabbed Russell's sleeve. His eyes were reddened from the tears, his face was pale, and the boy was suddenly reminded of the way dogs sometimes begged with sad, wide eyes. The doctor had the same expression.

".......Say.  
Would you kill me?  
You're familiar, are you not?  
I've even had nightmares lately....  
.......I beg of you.  
I leave the means to your discretion."

Russell stared at Kantera silently. The doctor gazed back at him with equal intensity, his cheeks wet and ghostly in the slowly dimming light of the room. His hands were trembling, his breathing was laboured from the sobbing.  
Then Russell slid off his seat and walked to the kitchen corner Kantera had glanced at a few minutes prior. He slid open the first drawer, which contained bamboo mats, chopsticks, chopstick holders, and small saucers. He closed it and opened the next drawer, where he found spoons, forks, and knives. The boy slid his hand in the drawer, and his fingers wrapped around the second biggest knife's handle. It was long and exceptionally sharp. Its handle was wide and heavy in Russell's palm, as it was meant to be held by an adult hand.  
He closed the drawer quietly, and stepped back to the table. The doctor was still kneeling where Russell had left him, with his head hung low. When he heard the boy's footsteps approaching, Kantera looked up and smiled.

"Ahh, that's a good knife."  
Kantera closed his eyes.  
"Will you kill me with that, then?"

Russell held the knife close to his chest. The doctor, Kantera, who had taught him about dragons and spider lilies and eastern funerals and manjuu and festivals, whose shop smelled like a different world, who had made him tea and allowed him to spend nights here, who had offered him the best cooking Russell had ever tasted, who shared the knowledge of his impulses but didn't condemn him for it, was kneeling in front of him waiting to be cut down.  
Russell gazed at the man whose eyes were closed. Then he wordlessly set the knife on the table, next to the portrait.

So the doctor thought Russell was a killer just like him. That was why he'd given him shelter, and that was why they had been friends. So Russell would feel indebted, so Kantera could finally be killed in the end. It all amounted to one thing: he'd been used.  
Any other person would have felt betrayed, but Russell didn't feel anything. Everything he'd just thought and understood were facts to him, nothing more, nothing less.

Kantera's eyes opened when nothing happened, and he looked up. His grey slanted eyes met Russell's young blue ones, and the man and the boy exchanged gazes for a while. Russell didn't understand why Kantera wanted to die, and he knew he owed Kantera for all the nice things he'd been given. However, he didn't want to kill Kantera even if he owed him. If he killed Kantera, he would lose what he had with Tabasa, and he found within himself that he didn't want that at all, even if he had no idea why. Then the doctor spoke.

"I am too late," whispered Kantera. "You are not the same anymore."  
Russell continued staring at him and didn't say anything. Kantera lowered his head, and two teardrops landed on his blue yukata. Then he quietly spoke.  
"Russell... You should not be scared of the zookeeper.  
He is nothing bad."

Russell didn't answer.  
Kantera didn't speak again.  
The knife was next to the portrait.  
The teapot on the red shelf was empty.  
The red spider lilies in the shop were withering.  
The lights in the shop shone golden.  
Dead leaves scattered in the street.

Russell left Kantera's shop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin.  
> Good goly was this chapter sad to write. Chris is a great friend, and I wish he could help more just as much as he wishes it, but what can you do when you're just a kid? Also Kantera, seriously, what is wrong with you? Why would you ask an already damaged child to kill you, you crazy piece of soap? I think that was something that really disturbed me in the game, it just felt so frustrating and wrong.... Build up trust in a lonely kid and then ask them to do the unforgivable, just because they owe you (and because they're a little psychopath).  
> Sorry, I'm ranting.  
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	20. Swimming Memory of Silver Fins

"Say, Russell... What do you do on your free time?"

Russell looked up at the zookeeper. Tabasa was stepping out of the giraffes' pen, a huge building that allowed the animals to sleep safely at night. The boy thought a bit, then answered that he usually played video games when he had nothing else to do.

Tabasa looked down at Russell and raised his eyebrows.  
"Huh... I'm a bit suprised.  
I didn't think you were the kind of guy who liked those."

Then he shifted the bucket he was holding from one hand to the other and shrugged lightly.  
"...I guess I'm more of a traditional myself.  
I've got plenty of crosswords and other puzzles at home.  
...Maybe we could try it out together, if you're interested."

Russell followed Tabasa as he started walking towards the camels' area.  
"I could bring you some.  
I've been stuck on several for a while now... maybe you could help me, huh?"  
The zookeeper turned to him.  
"What do you say?"

The blonde considered the offer. It could help pass time when his parents were home, since he couldn't use the TV then. He looked up at Tabasa and nodded.

"Great, then... I'll bring them next Tuesday.  
How's that sound?"

Okay, answered Russell. 

Tabasa smiled at the boy.  
"It's a deal then.   
Wait here for a minute, I'll be back soon."

He entered the camel's building, and Russell stayed outside to wait. The weather was getting colder these days, and the jacket he had to wear during the whole time was getting really worn out. He was lucky to have Chris' scarf. Russell had tried to ask his mother for a coat, or at least a new jacket, but she'd brushed him off by waving her hand angrily, without a word, the way she had of waving a fly away. It was a gesture which very clearly indicated she didn't want to see him, even less listen to him.  
Russell burrowed his face in his friend's scarf. It still smelled the way Chris's house did, but he knew that the scent would quickly disappear, snuffed out by the cloying smell of beer. Nothing could escape it.  
Russell took his hands out of his pockets and scrutinized the back of his hands. The skin there was dry and itchy, and tiny bumps were starting to appear, the way it happened every winter. His skin didn't handle cold very well, and it didn't help that he'd lost a glove at school. He shoved his hands back into his pockets and shivered. It wasn't yet cold to the point of blowing little clouds of mist the way smokers did, but it was cold enough. Usually Russell tried to spend the most amount of time he possibly could in warm places during winters, but he liked coming here despite the cold.

Russell heard a shuffle ahead of him and raised his head. Tabasa was stepping out of the building with a second empty bucket in his hands and a stack of stray under his arm. Some strands of hay were hanging from his dark green coat, but he didn't bother to brush them off. The boy walked up to him and closed the door in his stead to help.  
"Thanks, Russell," said the zookeeper with a grateful smile. Russell didn't answer, but he dipped his head slightly in acknowledgement.

Then they walked to Little Farm. Tabasa set down his empty buckets and went to open the first cage. He grabbed a handful of old stray and threw it in one of the buckets, then pulled out clean stray from the stack under his arm and pushed it inside. As he did that, he looked to the side to check what Russell was doing. The boy was sitting on the ground in front of Snowball, who seemed to be his favourite rabbit in Little Farm. Tabasa smiled and finished the cage he was tending to, closed it, and opened another. After a moment of comfortable silence, he opened his mouth to speak.  
"Hey, I was thinking...  
I know you like animals, but what about fish?  
I heard the aquarium's pretty nice... Never got around to going there, though."

Russell looked away from the big white rabbit in front of him and asked why he'd never gone. The zookeeper sounded like he wanted to go, after all. Tabasa seemed thoughtful at the question and he shrugged one shoulder.  
"Well, I don't really know...  
I guess... I just don't think about it because I never get bored.  
I like my job, but it takes up a lot of my time, you know?"  
The young man smiled as he said that, and he stroked one of the smaller rabbits. This one had dark fur.  
"Guess I'll go when I really feel like it..."

Russell watched him pet the rabbit for a few more moments before turning back to Snowball.  
He'd gone there before, once, a long time ago.

"Really... What's it like?" asked the zookeeper with great interest. He waited for the answer without stopping his work, retrieving the dirty straw and making sure the water was clean.

Russell didn't answer right away, and Tabasa didn't try press him. The boy was remembering something, something nice that he'd forgotten for a while because he hadn't thought about the aquarium since then. The aquarium was a nice memory for Russell. He'd gone there when he was younger, a lot younger, and he'd met a girl there. She'd had long silver hair, green eyes, and he distinctly remembered her red dress and the white scarf she carried in her arms. She'd been alone and lost, so he'd taken her by the hand and helped her around the aquarium.   
She'd told him many interesting things, like the fact that the fish they could see in the aquarium weren't the only living things in the sea. There were also life forms so small no one could see them, like bacteria.  
Russell had been impressed by her knowledge. She was even able to tell him the names of the different fish there. When he'd told her how great he found her to be, she'd smiled shyly at him, and he'd felt pleased to see that she was happy of the compliment. She hadn't asked him for his name, and he hadn't thought of asking hers. She'd found her parents, and they'd waved at each other before parting ways.  
It was nice memory, and Russell wondered if he was able to make any more of those.

He remembered Tabasa was right next to him and still waiting for an answer, so he simply said the fish were pretty. The zookeeper nodded appreciatively.  
"That sounds cool.  
Maybe we could go there together, you know?"

Russell watched him tuck in the stray of the third rabbit cage.   
He'd never thought of going back there. He and Chris didn't talk about going places together, and Chris was the only person he could've gone with. But now there was Tabasa, and _he_ was the one who wanted to go after all, so there was really no reason for Russell to hesitate.  
...It could be nice.  
Russell stopped petting the rabbit and pulled the sleeves of his old jacket over his hands to warm them up as much as he could, then looked up at the zookeeper.  
Yes, it could be a nice thing to do.

"Then it's a deal!" exclaimed Tabasa happily, shutting the door to the cage.  
"How about we go during Christmas break?  
That way we're sure to both be free at the same time.  
... Oh, and we could go with your friend, how does that sound?"

Russell nodded. Sure, why not. The school break was in less than two weeks, and he had no plans during it besides hanging out with Chris. The aquarium would be a good place to spend time, even if it was just for one day, and if Chris agreed to come it would be even more worth it to go.  
The wind blew stronger and Russell shivered again. It was time for him to find somewhere warm, he'd already been at the zoo for more than an hour. He turned to the zookeeper and told him he was leaving.

"Hold on, Russ." The man closed the cage and turned to him.  
"I was wondering, don't you have warmer clothes?"

Russell shook his head. Tabasa stared at him thoughtfully, and then he said:  
"Then maybe you shouldn't be hanging out with me in the cold.  
I don't want you getting sick because of me.  
Don't you have anywhere warmer to go?"  
Russell just stared at him, so Tabasa hurriedly added:  
"Don't get me wrong, it's not that I don't want to see you.  
... I just don't think it's a good idea for you to stay outside so long without a proper coat."

Russell looked down at his jacket, then back at the zookeeper. He didn't mind the cold that much, but if Tabasa didn't want him at the zoo, then he wouldn't come anymore. The boy's face didn't change, but the words he spoke made Tabasa feel like Russell was quite unhappy about what he'd just said.

Tabasa shook his head in protest.  
"No, Russ, that's not what I'm saying.  
It's not that I don't want you at the zoo,  
I'm just worried that you might catch a cold dressed like that."

Russell shoved his fists deeper down his pockets, his shoulders hunched as he spoke with a quiet voice. He wanted to come here, and if Tabasa really wanted him to be warm, then couldn't he just stay in Tabasa's room?  
The zookeeper tensed slightly, and then relaxed just as fast. Russell staying in his room didn't mean he had to be there with him. Besides, the monkeys had gotten better a long time ago and there was only a parrot in one of the cages now, and Russell already knew all that. If he was the one suggesting this idea, then that probably meant it wouldn't be an issue.

"You could do that, yeah...  
I won't be with you, though."

Russell shrugged. It was fine, he'd just go there if he started getting cold. Otherwise, he'd stay with Tabasa while he tended to the animals.  
It wasn't what Tabasa had in mind when he'd started this conversation, but it wasn't like he could force the boy to stay somewhere else. At least they'd reached somewhat of a compromise.

"All right, let's say that's settled.  
... Are you leaving right now, then?"

Russell nodded, so the zookeeper said goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin.  
> Somehow this chapter really felt stilted to write, I hope it didn't show. I just wasn't very inspired, I've also had a bunch of financial problems lately and then my really small apartment got flooded by my neighbour's toilets and the plumber just wouldn't come to fix it and a lot of other bad things... which is why this update (and many others from the different stories I write) is late. Hope you liked it anyway!  
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it.


	21. Gossip, Vanishing, Cartridge

Russell didn't especially like fall and winter. Not only were they cold seasons, but they also made him stand out at school, because he was the only one without a real coat. His warmest jacket really wasn't that warm at all, and the tears and gaps at the end of his sleeves and along the bottom of the jacket got him noticed by the others. He didn't like it when others paid too much attention to him, especially when the others were his classmates. It wasn't that he minded their insistent stares and their gossiping whispers, but he simply disliked being the center of their attention. He felt more at ease when they ignored his existence and forgot him.

When he went to school the next day and slipped into his seat, he noticed Chris wasn't there. His friend was skipping class again, for the fourth day in a row. Russell knew Chris hadn't been dealing on school time, either, because he'd checked their spot on the second day and his friend had been nowhere to be seen. Maybe he was sick. Russell decided he would go check on his friend after school.

"My mom and dad said the police found him dead three days later."

Russell raised his head and he looked at the group of girls that were talking a few desks away. He noticed Gardenia was with them.

"That's creepy! Why did no one find him before?"  
"I don't know, maybe no one came to see him."  
"But wasn't it a shop? I mean, there had to be clients, right?"  
"I said I didn't know!" The girl lowered her voice in a conspiring tone, though Russell could still hear her from where he sat. "I heard Dad say that it was poison."

Russell stood up. Their conversation felt familiar.

"You mean someone killed him?"  
"They're not sure yet. My dad's friend is in the police, he said it might be a suicide."  
"You mean he drank the poison himself?"  
"No, it was in his food."  
"But... isn't poison painful?" asked Gardenia.  
She was answered with a shrug. "I don't know, they didn't say."  
"... It's so sad," said the white-haired girl softly.

The girls fell silent for a short while. One of them noticed Russell was looking, but then she turned her gaze away and ignored him. Another one spoke.  
"I saw him once. I thought he was weird, but he didn't look depressed or anything like that."  
"Yeah, I think my parents talked about him too once, they said he probably came from another country."  
"But still, poison... That's scary."  
"How do you know about all that? I thought the police was really careful with that kind of information."  
"I listened from behind the door while Dad was talking to his friend."  
"You would get in so much-"

The girl cut off when she felt someone touch her shoulder, and when she looked up and saw Russell, she recoiled.  
"Don't touch me! What do you want?" she snapped at him.

Russell retrieved his hand and quietly asked who was dead. He felt he already knew the answer, but he wanted to make sure.

"Why do you want to know?  
Mind your own business, we're talking," answered the girl, and then she turned her back on him.  
The other girls stared at him, waiting for him to leave so they could resume their conversation, but he stayed there.  
"Go away, Russell," said another girl.  
He didn't go away. He wanted to know who was dead.

"A shopkeeper died, in the eastern part of town," said Gardenia.

Russell looked at her and asked if it was the one who sold plants and medicine, if it was the doctor with the kimono and slanted eyes.

Gardenia nodded slowly.  
"I think so. Did you know him?"  
She gazed at him with searching blue eyes when she asked, her voice gentle but also curious.

Russell didn't answer. He just turned away and walked back to his desk to get his stuff.

"What a creep."  
"Why did you even ask him, Gardenia?  
He never answers."  
_

Russell went to Kantera's shop. He didn't even feel the cold. He wanted to make sure what the girls had said was real, that they weren't just rumors, that Gardenia hadn't been mistaken.  
When he reached the shop, the lights were off. He tried to open the door, but it was locked. He stuck his face to the glass and peered inside. The shelves were still filled with all kinds of pots and boxes, but there was no light emanating from behind the curtain. Nothing moved. The spider lilies at the counter were dead and withered.  
Russell stepped back, his arms hanging limply at his sides.

The doctor was gone. He'd died after Russell had left him alone.  
Russell put his back against the glass and slid down into a sitting position, and he stayed there, watching the alley and its rare passerbys.  
Was the doctor really at peace, now that he had died?  
Would the police send his body back to his country?  
Would his bones be burned?  
Would he sleep with the floating fish and swaying higanbana flowers?  
Would he find his grandfather again?

Was any of that afterlife real at all?

Russell stayed there for a long while, out in the cold with dead leaves dancing on the street. There would be no more tea, no more cooking, no more talking about the doctor's home country. No more picking herbs and eating manjuu. All of that was gone now.

The doctor was gone.

Kantera really was gone.  
_

Russell got up again when the cold started seeping into his bones from sitting so still on the sidewalk, and he decided to go see his friend just as he'd planned to earlier. When Russell knocked on Chris's door, he heard his friend swear inside. The cursing was followed by angry footsteps, then the door swung open and Chris barked: "What?"  
When he saw Russell was standing there, he said : "Oh, Russ."  
His expression shifted from angry harsh lines to a friendly and apologetic smile.  
"Sorry, man, we keep gettin' bothered by religious guys who think we need their crap,  
so I'm a bit wound up. What're you here for? Wanna come inside?"

Russell stepped in Chris's house and his friend closed the door behind him. Russell asked why he hadn't been at school for four days.

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that man, my mom's sick and I gotta look after her.  
You're bored without me, that it?"  
Chris smiled widely, but he had bags under his eyes.  
Russell asked if she was very sick, and Chris's smile melted off his face like butter in a pan.

"She caught a really bad cold.  
I'm sure she'll be fine, but...  
I keep sayin' she should go see a doctor, but she doesn't wanna,  
and it's not like I can drag her there, y'know."

Russell knew. He asked if there was anything he could do to help.

"Can you go grab some cold medicine for me? And we're almost out of cough syrup,  
so if you could go get that as well, that'd be swell. I don't wanna leave her by herself."

Russell said that he could, and then asked if Chris was okay.  
His friend looked at him, seemed to hesitate, and finally said:  
"I'm... I'm not doin' that good. I kind feel responsible.  
I mean, she works so hard for the both of us, and she's so tired...  
But you shouldn't worry about me, you don't look too good yourself."

Russell was taken aback by his friend's observation, and it must've shown, because Chris nodded and added: "Yeah, I know you well enough to tell when somethin's wrong.  
Did somethin' happen? Your parents again?"

Russell shook his head and said it was nothing. Chris didn't insist, and handed him the money he needed to buy the medicine.

"Okay, nevermind. There you go.  
That should be enough."

Russell took the money and shoved it in his pocket. When he looked up at Chris again, he saw there was something else his friend wanted to say, so he waited. Chris didn't look very sure of himself, but then he finally spoke.

"Hey, that zookeeper guy of yours...  
Now that you're friends, you don't suppose you could ask him for some money?  
I didn't earn much this month, and with my mom being sick an' all, we don't have enough."  
Russell slowly shook his head, and Chris frowned.  
"What, you don't want him to be involved in our lives?  
It's okay, just tell him some bullshit like, I don't know,  
you need the money to help for a project of some kind,  
and then I'll return the money to you next month."

Russell shook his head again. Chris and him knew full well they couldn't borrow any money from anyone, debt was too dangerous for their unstable lifestyles. Chris sighed and ruffled his brown hair.  
"Yeah, I guess you're right.  
I shouldn't even have asked in the first place, sorry.  
It's just that... We're in so much shit this month, me and Mom...  
It's going to be a tough one to live out."

Russell stared at him, but he didn't say anything. There was nothing to say.  
Chris noticed his friend looking at him and he straightened, a wide smile illuminating his features. "But hey, we'll make it out all right, just like we always do!  
You're still welcome here whenever, you know."  
Russell nodded and uttered a thank you, and then both boys fell silent. Things were always complicated for Chris and his mom because they cared and wanted the best things for each other, despite their money problems. At least Russell's parents had found a solution to that kind of dilemma: not caring about their kid probably helped a lot with their financial struggles.  
Russell wanted to help Chris just like Chris helped him, but aside from dealing, there wasn't much he could do.

Chris gestured towards the door.  
"Go get the medicine, I'll make us some food.  
Forget what I said about the zookeeper, okay?"

Russell nodded and walked to the door. He heard Chris rummaging through a cupboard as he stepped out of the house, and then the door closed behind him. It was so cold he could see little clouds of mist slipping out through his scarf where it covered his mouth, and his body tensed up in a shiver. He hunched his shoulders and started walking to the closest drugstore.  
_

The door to Chris's house opened again thirty minutes later, and Russell entered holding a plastic bag. There was a steaming pot on the stove and fried nuggets in a plate next to it, but Chris wasn't in the kitchen. Russell took off his jacket and hung it to the coat rack, took a step towards the table, stopped, sneezed, and continued walking to put the plastic bag and its contents on the table. The door to his right opened and his friend appeared, his features brightening at the sight of the bag.

"Thanks, Russ!  
You were pretty quick.  
Just sit down, I'll be there in a sec."

He took out a plate, pushed some nuggets into it and plopped two big spoonfuls of instant mashed potatoes next to them, then grabbed the cold medicine and headed to his mom's room. Russell sat down at the table and rubbed his hands together to make them warmer. His throat ached a bit from the cold, despite Chris's scarf.  
Chris came back from the bedroom, picked up an empty glass on the drying rack, poured some water from the sink into it and walked back in the room. Russell continued to wait and stare at the food. He wasn't that hungry, but it smelled good.  
Then Chris finally came back for good, and they ate together.

Russell left the house soon after eating, as he didn't want to burden Chris with his presence. Instead of hanging out with his friend, he decided to go play video games at home. He would've liked to go see Tabasa, but it wasn't the right time for the zookeeper's shift. Besides, even if he liked being with Tabasa, he was a bit tired and didn't feel like talking to anybody anymore.

Just as he expected, there was no one home yet. Russell shivered and tried to decide if the house's temperature was worth taking off his jacket. The only time his parents allowed him to turn on the heater was when they were here, because they said it would cost too much to leave it turned on all day. Of course, whether Russell was there or not when they were away was none of their concern.

Russell ended up choosing to keep his scarf and use his jacket as a rug to sit on, since he wasn't allowed the couch. He didn't feel like having a case of freezing butt right now, he'd had enough of that when sitting in the doctor's alley. Besides, if he chose to play an action game or something, he'd stop paying attention to the cold.

The cartridge smoothly slid in the console for once, and the screen came to life. Russell's fingers automatically moved around on the buttons to choose his character, more out of habit than of motivation. He wasn't focusing on the game, something kept calling his attention back to the closed shop and its dark interior.  
He hadn't seen Kantera die. Some part of him didn't believe that the doctor was dead. Gone, maybe, but dead? Every time he tried to imagine Kantera lied out on his table, his cold hand still resting on a half-eaten manjuu, it felt too surreal to be true and he stopped trying to imagine it almost immediately. It made more sense to him that Kantera had just left the shop, left this country, and gone back to where he came from.

But Russell also knew that police didn't lie.  
They were adults, and adults lied, but Officer Bombers had told him that police people weren't allowed to lie or they would get punished. Russell believed the officer lady, because her blue eyes were clear and pretty when she said so, and she had the clearest and prettiest gaze Russell had ever seen in an adult. She wasn't like the other grown-ups, she didn't lie to him.

Russell suddenly straightened and hit pause. Of course, that was it. He just had to ask Yumi if it was true, and she'd tell him and he'd know for good. That way he wouldn't be so unsure anymore, and he could stop thinking about it.  
Russell didn't even know why it bothered him so much. When he was eight and his grandmother had died, he hadn't thought about it much and he'd even forgotten all about her, except that she was nice to him and had a lot of books. He hadn't seen her die either, but it hadn't been difficult to believe. Why was he doubting Kantera's death? Why did he he have such a strong feeling that the doctor had simply gone abroad, and why did he avoid thinking about the man's dead body despite himself?

If he wanted to see Officer Bombers, he'd have to go to the police station himself. He didn't want to meet the officer lady on a late-night encounter like he usually did, because he didn't want her to bring him back here like she usually did. Last time had been the worst, after he'd spent the evening with Kantera and forgotten to watch the time: the way his dad had looked at her had been the weirdest yet. Russell had felt disgusted more than usual, maybe because for the first time since Officer Bombers had started to bring him back home, the officer lady had finally noticed something was askew. Russell didn't know how or why she noticed, but he knew she did in the way she turned her gaze away from his dad to look Russell in the eye. In her lucid blue stare, the boy had read a change, though he was unable to tell what kind, and it had made him realize one thing: he couldn't allow Officer Bombers to come here anymore. He was done with late-night encounters, even if it meant not seeing the pretty officer lady at all. He didn't want her to be involved with him and his dad any further, because the way she'd stared at Russell had given him a wrong kind of feeling, like something bad would happen if she came here again.

Russell had given up on seeing the officer lady again, but she was the only police officer who he knew would tell him the truth for sure. She was the only one who could really tell him about Kantera.

The boy turned off the game and got to his feet, gathering his jacket in his arms and putting the console away. He looked at the clock in the kitchen and saw that his parents would be home in about two hours. That left him just enough time to make the trip and come back before them so that he wouldn't have to face his dad upon coming home. Russell slipped on his jacket, pulled the zipper all the way up and braced himself before stepping out in the cold weather once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin.  
> Look, I'm sorry about Kantera, don't hit me! But I believe the doctor was already set on a path of self-destruction before even meeting Russell. He might've felt like he was able to deal with it far from his home country, but the murder was clearly eating at his sanity. There was just no way to save him.  
> Tabasa staying alive does wonders in Russell's case, but it can only change so much.  
> Also yes, I am back, and I hope you enjoyed this new chapter. Leave a comment if you feel like it!


	22. Bruised Knucles, Truth, Hot Chocolate

It took him about twenty more minutes to reach the station than when he made the trip in Officer Bomber's car, and when he pushed the wide door open, he felt the muscles in his neck and shoulders loosen with the building's warmth. He stepped inside and the door slowly closed by itself, making a loud clicking sound, and the only person sitting in the entryway's seats looked up at Russell. It was a tall bearded man with an annoyed face, no one he recognized or cared to.

The boy walked up to the reception desk and stopped a foot away so that the person behind it could still see him entirely.  
The man wearing a police hat looked at him and said : "Hello. Can I help you?"  
He looked young. It was a police officer Russell hadn't seen before. Usually the one at the reception desk was an older woman when Yumi brought him in at night.

Russell asked if Officer Bombers was here. The man lifted an eyebrow upon hearing his question.  
"Well it depends, why do you need Officer Bombers?  
Are you her little brother or something?"

Russell said he just needed to talk to her.

The officer seemed to hesitate a bit, and he glanced over at the sullen man with the beard, then back at the boy. "What's your name, kid?" asked the officer. "I'll go ask around, see if she's there."

Russell told him and the officer rose from his seat, nodding. "Okay, stay there. I'll be back in a minute."

Russell waited in the practically deserted room, and behind him the bearded man shifted and sighed. They didn't speak. They were both waiting.

The young officer reappeared a bit more than a minute later, a familiar blonde woman in his wake. When she saw Russell standing there, she exclaimed with a smile: "Oh, it's really you! I thought Edward over 'ere was havin' hallucinations, we don't see much of you when it's still daytime out. So what's bringin' the lil' Seager along? Ed told me ya wanted a talk with me." She placed her hand next to her mouth as if she didn't want the younger officer to hear and said: "Yer not in trouble, are ya?"

Russell shook his head and looked up at her. Officer Bomber's hair fell over her shoulders in shiny blonde waves, and her beautiful blue eyes watched him with kind interest. Again, he felt the certainty that she was the only one he could ask.

Yumi stared at the boy and noticed his jacket was torn. Up until the last time she'd escorted him back home, she'd always suspected the bruises he had were because of his parents. Oh, she'd noticed Mr. Seager's alcohol-laced breath and the questionable state of his clothes, the dingy house, the ladies' underwear lying about, Mrs. Seager never being the one to open the door. However, there was no proof for anything she suspected, and while she was a cop, she couldn't just bust in there yelling "for justice!". Russell never said anything about it, Mr. Seager acted as much of a gentleman as he could in his drunken state, and the mother was nowhere to be seen.  
But last time, Mr. Seager had acted more insistent than usual about inviting her in - probably had one too many drinks, even for him - and as he attempted to wave her inside, she'd seen the knuckles of his left hand. He usually had that hand in his pocket whenever she came there, so she hadn't noticed before, but that day they were definitely marked with violence.  
She'd looked over at Russell in a useless attempt to find the truth in the boy's eyes, but they were as expressionless as ever. It had made her feel distinctly uncomfortable and she'd decided right then that she'd do something about this. She didn't know what, how or when, but she couldn't simply allow potential child abuse to happen right under her nose without attempting anything. She was a cop, for crying out loud!  
She'd refused Mr. Seager's invitation as she always did, bid both Russell and his father good night, and climbed in her car to drive back to the station. During the ride, she'd tried to come up with various scenarios and ways to go through with this and had finally chosen her course of action: that next time she brought back Russell, she'd accept Mr. Seager's invitation and make her own little investigation of the place. If anything suspicious came up, she'd call Child Protective Services and see if they'd agree to pick up on her trail.

The only problem was that she hadn't caught Russell walking around at night for quite a while now.

Russell told her he hadn't come here to cause any trouble.  
"Nah, dont'cha worry!" she said. "I wasn't really thinkin' that, I know yer a nice kid, Russell."  
He simply watched her and she waited for him to tell her what he'd come here to tell in the first place. It didn't take a lot of waiting. He'd come here to ask about a man named Kantera.  
Yumi's mind instantly connected the name with the case: the japanese herbalist they'd found dead three days ago due to poison in his food. Apparently his clients knew him under the name Kantera, but the japanese ID they'd found in his belongings testified that he really was called Ryuuzen. 

The woman wondered how Russell knew about it and why he was here. "Yeah, I see who yer talkin' about. Someone ya knew?"  
Russell nodded slowly. Then he explained why he'd asked to talk with her, and asked if the police had really found him dead.

Yumi felt uneasy. The blonde kid in front of her was asking this for a reason, and the Russell she knew usually didn't care about anything. So why was he asking about this in particular?  
"Russell, why're you askin' me this?"

The boy looked down and shrugged. He didn't think the doctor was dead.  
It was slim, but Yumi recognized denial in his voice. "Russell... Were you two friends?"

Russell didn't answer.

Yumi swallowed. The boy obviously had hopes that Ryuuzen wasn't dead, simply gone, and he could've asked any officer here. The fact that he'd asked for her specifically made it quite clear that this was very important to him, and that he relied on her for the truth. She couldn't lie. She had to tell him.  
She wasn't feeling great about this, but she asked: "You want to know the truth?"

Russell didn't look at her, but he nodded. It was almost imperceptible.

So Yumi told him the truth. She tried to say it as gently as she could, because although Russell didn't show many emotions, she knew she couldn't afford to do this off-handedly.  
"I'm sorry, Russell, but...  
Kantera really is dead."

The fourteen year old boy finally looked up at her. She had no idea what was in his eyes, but she knew that right there, in that young blue gaze, she was seeing more than Russell had ever shown in a long time. And it almost crushed her heart to see it.

"Everythin' all right?" she asked, reaching for his shoulder.  
Russell jerked away from her and tore his gaze away from her face. For a moment, there was only silence, and they both just stood there, the blonde officer concernedly watching the fourteen-year old as he blankly stared at the ground. Yumi felt the gaze of her colleague on them, but the young policeman didn't say anything either.

Her hand remained in the air, and she softly ventured: "...Russell?"

The boy glanced at her. Then he turned around and ran out of the building.  
"Hey!" called Edward from behind his desk.  
"Russell!" she cried, and she took a step forward to follow him, but he was already gone.  
The room fell silent, and the young police officer looked at her. "Who was that kid?"

Yumi shook her head sadly and started walking back to her office. "Just... a lonely kid. Ya haven't worked night shifts yet, but he's a regular."  
"I couldn't tell what he was thinking... He's a bit weird, isn't he?"  
She shot him a look. "Ya think, Sherlock?"  
_

Russell didn't want to think about Kantera. Why was this affecting him so much?  
He didn't care!  
A few months ago, he would've been the one to kill the doctor without a thought, and it wouldn't have bothered him at all. So why was he feeling this horrible, gripping feeling that made him feel dirty and powerless? Why couldn't he stop it?  
Was it Tabasa's fault too? How? How did Tabasa do it? Why was he making Russell feel all these terrible things? It was so displeasing, and Russell could do nothing about it.

The boy ran back home, and all the way, he could feel the dark, oozing feeling clogging his chest, and he hated it. He hated it, and he wanted to wash it off. He would've done anything to escape it. It scared him.

Last time he'd been scared, Tabasa had helped make it go away. But it was too late to go to the zoo now, and besides, what made Russell so sure Tabasa could help for this too? Maybe it would get worse. Tabasa had a knack for making Russell's emotions go uncontrollable, but at least when he was there, he could help get them back to normal, or as normal as they could be. Without the zookeeper, Russell was completely at loss as to what had to be done.

His lungs were on fire by the time he reached his home, but he didn't pay attention. He was too lost in his feelings to notice. So lost, in fact, that he didn't see one of the windows of his house were lit up and by the time he understood someone was there, he'd already burst through the door.

His feet halted and his first thought was that his dad was home early.  
The second one, when he saw the look on his dad's face, was that he was in trouble.

"Why the fuck are you making so much noise in my house?" barked the man, banging his beer on the table. "Close the fuck'n door!"  
Russell did as told and turned back to his father, who ordered him closer with a significant jerk of his beer. "Come here!"  
Russell silently walked up to him and just stood there with his shoulder heaving up and down, still catching his breath from all the running.  
The first slap landed like lightning, fast and burning. The man's blows were surprisingly quick for a drunk.  
"What the fuck did I tell you about running in the house?" yelled his father.  
In another time, Russell would've said he was sorry, hoping to quell the man's anger. But he'd long learnt his lesson. It only made his father angrier. Whatever Russell chose to do, he always became angrier.

The man slapped him again and Russell stumbled a bit. He could never quite prepare himself for the force of the blow, because it somehow always ended up taking him by surprise.  
"You look me in the eyes when I'm talking!"  
Russell executed the order. He would've gotten slapped for being disrespectful if he'd looked his father in his eyes to begin with. He just couldn't win.

His father squinted his bloodshot eyes at Russell and slurred: "Where'd you get that scarf?"

He'd had Chris' scarf for five days and his father was just now noticing its existence. It would've been better if he hadn't, but it would've happened eventually.

The man cuffed him over the head, hard. Russell felt tears spring up automatically from the pain.  
"Answer when I ask you a question, you little shit!"

Russell told him he'd found it on the ground.  
"What we give you isn't enough? Huh? Jacket not warm enough for you, sir?" retorted his father mockingly, before ordering: "Hand it over."

Russell didn't move.

His father narrowed his eyes. "Are you deaf? Give. It."

Still Russell didn't move.

His father threw his bottle on the ground and stood up to his full height. Compared to someone like Tabasa, his full height wasn't that impressive, but to Russell he was towering over him like giant. A very angry, drunk, and harmful giant.  
He grabbed Russell's scarf and sharply pulled on it, jerking his son forward. "Give me the fucking scarf!" he bellowed, and Russell felt the fabric tighten around his throat.  
He said no. He hadn't said no in a long time.  
His father's face became red with rage.

Next thing Russell knew, he was lying on the floor with a throbbing pain in the side of his face and no more scarf around his neck. His father was standing over him, breathing heavily. Russell curled up for any more oncoming blows, but the man just stood there with the scarf held tight in his shaking hand. His voice was quaking with anger.  
"Don't you dare say no to me again, boy. I _will_ kill you. Now get out of here."  
Then he lumbered back to the couch and picked up his bottle of beer again.

Russell got back to his feet and headed for the bathroom, cradling his throbbing face with his hand. He didn't know why he hadn't given his father the scarf. The man would've kept it for a while and then dropped it on the floor once he was sure he'd made his point, without giving Russell any more trouble if the boy decided to wear it again. But Russell had resisted.  
What puzzled him most was that his father hadn't hit him more for what he'd done. Russell counted himself lucky.

The boy looked in the mirror, his reflection confirming that he would have a black eye very soon. His lower lip had split from one of the slaps, in the spot that hadn't healed from last time. He leaned away from the mirror. He wished he hadn't said no. Now he had no idea when he'd get his scarf back.

Suddenly he heard his father's heavy footsteps approaching and the door flew open. His father appeared in the doorway and he yelled: "What're you still doing here? I said GET OUT!"  
Russell didn't have the time to react. The man grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and pulled him out of the bathroom, half-carrying, half-dragging him across the house, opened the door and threw him out. Russell tripped and fell on all fours, scraping his hands and knees, and when he looked back his father had already slammed the door.

Cold swept over the boy and he shivered, his teeth started chattering. It was a lot less easy to face this weather now, without the scarf. It was fortunate for him that he hadn't taken off his jacket in the house. Russell picked himself up and took a few steps, then looked around. He didn't know what to do. He didn't think he'd get kicked out of the house for what he'd done, not for the night. Maybe his father was finally tired of beating him and wanted him gone for good.  
And his mother... Well, she wouldn't notice. And Dad wouldn't tell her what had happened anyway.

Russell felt the shivers intensify, and he wondered if he could go sleep at Chris' house. It was the only place he could sleep if he wanted a roof over his head, but... He wished he didn't have to disturb Chris and his mom again, showing up unannounced on their doorstep to hog their place when she was sick and Chris was tired. But he didn't really have a choice now.  
Russell briefly thought of Tabasa, and for that short moment he felt something tug at his heart. He squashed the thought and started walking in the cold and dimming gray daylight. He had to hurry. He didn't want to fall sick.

He trudged on and on in the streets and tried to ignore the shapes sitting in the growing shadows that he crossed every now and then. Some of them were laughing softly to themselves, others were still. A few asked him for money, those who were conscient enough.

His fingers were so numb that they hurt, and his throat ached. He wished for the tenth time he'd somehow managed to keep the scarf. The evening's temperature itself wasn't as cold as in winter, but the gusts of wind that whistled between the two sides of the street were freezing. 

By the time Russell reached his friend's house, he felt like he'd become an ice cube. He hadn't realized just how much the scarf protected him against the cold. Or maybe he'd just become used to the warmth it provided. He didn't feel anything in his knuckles when they rapped on the door.  
Nothing moved inside, so Russell knocked again. He couldn't ring the doorbell, it was broken.  
Then a light turned on inside, and he saw a shape move through the house. Judging by the height, it could only be Chris.

The door opened and Russell blinked when he felt the warm air inside brush against his face. Chris looked tired as ever, but that didn't prevent a surprised look to appear on his face.  
"Russell? What-" Then he squinted his eyes at him and said: "Woah. You look like a train wreck."  
Russell simply asked if he could stay for the night.  
Chris sighed and stepped aside to let his friend pass through. "Come in. Your parents again, huh."

Russell crossed the treshold and Chris closed the door behind him. The blonde just stood there, wrapping his arms around his chest and shivering.  
Chris held out his hand. "Wanna take your jacket off?"  
Russell shook his head silently. He was too cold.  
Chris frowned. "Where's your scarf? You're supposed to put it on when it's cold out, y'know."  
Russell didn't answer.  
Chris didn't insist and he put his hand on his friend's shoulder to guide him to one of the chairs. Russell sat down, but he kept the same hunched position.  
"Are you that cold?" asked Chris, reaching out to feel his friend's skin. It was freezing, and he almost shivered from the touch. "Did you stay out long?"

Russell answered: just for the trip here.

Chris retrieved his hand. "I'll just make you some hot chocolate or somethin', cause you look like you're about to freeze to death."  
Russell didn't answer, so Chris went to get the milk. He knew that it wasn't normal for Russell to still be so tense and shivering now that he was in a warm household, and he suspected it was because his friend was so thin. Russell got cold really fast, and remained that way longer than Chris. He just wasn't healthy enough. It didn't take a doctor's degree to see that.

Behind him, Russell said he wouldn't stay here too long.

Chris waved his hand before reaching for the chocolate powder.  
"It's fine, don't worry.  
It's not like you're disturbing us or anythin'.  
Mom won't even know you were here."

Russell fell silent again.

Chris finished fiddling with the mug and put it inside the microwave, and waited. He looked at his friend every now and then, and it looked like Russell was finally starting to warm up a little. His face was just awful to look at, though. His eye was swelling and he even had some blood on his lip. Chris wished he could do something more than just give him hot chocolate. His mom had a first-aid kit, but she didn't allow him to use it for anything other than a real emergency, like a bad cut or a broken something. Medical supplies cost quite a bit of money, unfortunately.

"I'm sorry I can't give you anything for your face," apologized Chris.  
"You can go wash it if you want."

Russell shrugged. It was fine.

The microwave reached the last second and Chris stopped it before it dinged, took out the mug and reset the timer. Then he walked over to the table and handed it to his friend. Russell took it, his cold fingers brushing against Chris' warm hand.  
"Oh, wait, forgot to give you a spoon."  
Chris turned around and got a spoon from a drawer, and gave it to Russell as well.

Russ didn't start drinking it right away. He set the hot chocolate in his lap and tightened his hold around it. Chris slid in the seat next to him. "So what happened?"  
Russell looked at him for a moment, and then his eyes reverted back to the mug. His father had gotten mad at him again.  
Chris crossed his arms on the table. "But why were you outside?"  
The blonde didn't move. His weary eyes were still trained on his hands.  
"Did he make you leave?"  
Russ nodded in a slight dip of the head.  
"Is that why you didn't have my scarf?"  
His friend still wasn't looking him in the eye, but he answered in a very quiet voice that his dad had taken the scarf. Then he apologized.  
Chris felt angry and then confused. "What? Why are you sayin' sorry?"  
Russ fell silent again, and Chris said: "I don't get why you you're apologizin'. You don't need to. Just drink your chocolate and I'll give you clothes for the night so you can change. We can play some games after if you want."

Russell hunched over even more and it looked like he was closing up.

Chris watched him for a while, but when his friend didn't move, he asked: "Russ, what's wrong man? You've been actin' weird all day."

Russell didn't answer.

"I know somethin's up. You know you can say it, whatever it is."

Russell kept staring into his mug. It was kind of beginning to feel like he wasn't really there.  
Chris put his hand on the blonde's shoulder and said: "Russ?"

His friend's eyes moved slowly and Russell looked at him. Chris stared back.  
Then Russ shook his head and quietly said that it was nothing. That he was just tired.

"You sure?" asked Chris.  
Russ nodded. Then he brought the mug up to his lips and started sipping his hot chocolate.

They didn't talk much after that. Chris understood that his friend just wanted to be quiet, but he knew something had happened before Russell's dad had done this. Russ had already felt kind of off at noon. Well, he always was a bit weird, but today he was acting... just a tiny bit different. Chris didn't know why.

Russ went to the bathroom to wash up while Chris cleaned the mug, and then they went to Chris' bedroom. It looked like Russell was pretty tired, and Chris himself felt pooped, so they didn't do anything else that evening in the end. They simply climbed into Chris' bed and slept.

Russ was already gone by the time Chris woke up the next morning, but he'd left a thank you note on his pillow using a sticky note and a pen from the kitchen. Chris squinted at the pink paper to read what was written, and then he plopped back into the bed.  
Sometimes Russ did this when he didn't want to bother Chris' mom, but Chris wished they could've at least eaten some breakfast together before he left. Just to see if Russ was feeling any better than yesterday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin.  
> I am proud of myself for updating only five days late. I know, right, it's crazy to think I'm still hanging on to my updating schedule despite my obvious procrastination issues. Yay to me!  
> Also I like to think that Chris has this antenna disguised as a hair strand that serves as a bullshit-o-meter for whenever Russell acts like everything's fine but it's really not.  
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter, leave a comment if you feel like it!
> 
> Edit: I almost forgot! I did a drawing of Russell and I wanted you guys to see it if you were interested, so here you are: https://tanukitan.deviantart.com/art/The-You-from-Before-End-Roll-730383509


	23. Pale Face, Heavy Knife

"It hurt, you know.  
The poison was painful."

The doctor sat behind the red table with a cold cup of tea at his side.

"I wish you'd simply killed me with that knife.  
You know how easy it would've been for me to die then.  
Isn't that right, Russell?"

His eyes were dark red.   
His kimono was gray like the stormy clouds in the sky.

_Be cursed._

"Why did you do it, Russell?"

His red irises were growing larger.  
Two black higanbana flowers were blooming at the center of his pupils.

"Why did you let me poison myself?"

_Be cursed._

The higanbana petals sprouted from his face.  
The doctor smiled kindly.   
Thick, black blood creeped down his cheeks.

"Will you come play with the fish?"

"Let us drink tea together."

"Aren't you happy?"

_Be cursed._

The petals spread and spread, curving upwards and sliding over their heads.  
The doctor had no eyes.

"Ah... 'Tis a dark and lonely place."

_Be cursed._

His voice echoed in the empty obscurity.  
The raw smell of bloody meat surrounded them.

"Aren't you happy?"

_Be cursed._

Russell suddenly woke up from the nightmare with a small jerk of his body. He blinked twice, and rolled on his flank. The bedsheets covering Chris' shape were gently falling and rising beside him. The room was silent.  
Russell turned back to the window. The sun had barely started to rise, but he didn't want to go back to sleep. He decided to take advantage of the early time to slip out of Chris' house unnoticed. 

Russell discreetly got out of the bed and walked out of the bedroom. In the house's main room, where the kitchen and living room were joined, he changed out of Chris' clothes to put on the ones from the day before, then went to get a post-it and a pen. He wrote a quick note on it and silently went back in Chris' room to put the paper on his now empty pillow, next to the clothes which he folded in a flat little stack on the bed.

Then he stepped out of the house.  
It was as cold as the day before, but it wasn't like he could do anything about it. His face hurt from last night, so he headed straight for the hospital.

The back door where he usually waited for Mireille wasn't unlocked, so he couldn't step inside to warm up a little. Instead, he settled for huddling against the wall, holding his knees close to his chest, and waiting.  
He was shivering and the cold made his head hurt, but he was also feeling sleepy again. He soon ended up staring at the ground mindlessly, and his eyes gradually closed.

He woke up to the sound of a window opening, and heard a small squeak of surprise coming from above. He blinked drowsily, his feet and fingers numb from the cold, and looked up. Mireille was staring at him with evident surprise in her big green eyes.

"Ah... R-Russell...  
G... Good morning...  
Y-You scared me, sitting in the corner like that...  
W-What are you doing outside?"

Russell slowly got to his feet and showed her the side of his face. The young nurse frowned disapprovingly when she saw the bruise.

"O-Oh, Russell, you got hurt again...  
Though, I suppose it has been a long time since I've, um, seen you.  
Y-You should come inside quickly before you catch a cold."

She disappeared from the window and a few seconds later, the door opened. Russell stepped inside, shivering from the nice change of temperature. His body ached from sitting outside so long.

The nurse's hands were trembling slightly as she handed him a cold compress. She seemed tired, and pale, and her lips were white. She gave him a pitiful smile.

"H-Here you go.  
I-I'm sure you'll be all better in a few."

Russell took the compress from her hands and applied it to the bruise on the side of his face. It was where it hurt the most. 

He stared at the nurse, who noticed his gaze.

"U-Um, Russell...  
W-What is it?  
... Do I have something on my face...?"

He asked her if she was tired, because she looked a bit sick. Her eyes widened a little in surprise. She'd expected him to nod or shake his head silently, because Russell usually wasn't one to ask her anything when they met. He'd never shown any real interest in her, never initiated a conversation. The way things usually went, she talked and he listened, and that was it. This was quite the unexpected turn of events.  
Mireille brought her hands together in her lap and started wringing them.

"Oh, s-sorry...  
Err... Do I really seem out of sorts?"

Russell pointed out that she didn't have her name tag. She looked down and saw he was right.

"Ah! I-I hadn't even noticed..."

Then her surprised expression slowly morphed into sadness, something Russell knew how to recognize easily by now. Kantera had worn the same face a few times when he gazed at the spider lilies, and Russell had realized that sadness was also what Chris felt when he made a strange expression about his mom's problems.

"...I-I guess I'm not very good at pretending..."

She looked at him, and then sat down in a nearby chair, taking a deep breath and letting it out in a long sigh.

"I-I don't know if I should be telling you this.  
Y-You're young, Russell.  
Maybe you wouldn't understand."

Russell stayed silent.  
After a moment, Mireille shook her head and laughed softly.

"...Nonsense.  
I-I'm a stupid girl for even thinking about it.  
It's my own problem, after all."

She got off her chair and went to the cabinet to grab some band-aids and some painkillers. She smiled at him as she handed the whole to the boy.

"Y-You can go, Russell.  
Just... Um... Don't forget to bring me back that compress, all right?"

Russell nodded, but the nurse had already turned her back and left. 

The boy didn't understand what was going on with Mireille at all, and he didn't know what to think about her unusual behaviour. It made him feel all strange and tense inside, like something bad was going to happen. She wasn't joyful, her face was really pale, and as for the bags under her eyes... They reminded him of Kantera before...

Russell felt a cold, nasty jolt in his gut and he jumped in surprise, his fingers letting go of the compress which flopped to the ground. His hand flew down to his stomach and he stared at it, confused and apprehensive. He waited for it to happen again, but it didn't, so he slowly removed his hand.

That was... strange.

He stared at the compress on the ground and knelt down to pick it up, wondering what had just happened to him. Things were getting very strange these days. He was feeling more and more things he didn't usually feel, and doing things he usually didn't do. He still didn't understand what it was he felt between him and Tabasa, didn't understand why he was starting to recognize feelings again, he didn't know why he'd gone back to Kantera's to check or why he'd asked Officer Bombers about it, didn't know what he was going to become because of those changes, and it scared him.

Even if Tabasa was there to help him understand some things, like the fact that he'd started to care about the zookeeper, Russell was not reassured. Even if the thing between him and Tabasa felt nice, he didn't really want to change any more than he already had. He'd had enough of all these unexpected, unexplained changes, and he felt like he couldn't catch up with them if they continued to be so fast-paced. 

He felt like he was losing himself.

It was something scary, something that he couldn't force to go away. He really didn't like it, but he didn't know what to do about it either. He felt confused whenever he thought about these changes, yet at the same time he didn't want to understand. He was afraid that if he understood, then there would be no going back to his old self. He knew that being a person with no emotions was a lot easier than being normal : he knew that by watching Chris struggle with his mom's problems, Tabasa be scared of the monkeys, Mireille act incomprehensibly sad, Kantera... die from his guilt.

Feelings brought trouble. All Russell wanted was to avoid trouble. It should've been easy to make a choice. He just had to stop seeing those who made all those changes happen, get rid of them like he had tried to do all those months ago.  
And yet...

And yet, some part of him didn't wish to. He wanted to continue seeing Tabasa. If Kantera had still been there, he would've wanted to continue talking with the doctor too. He didn't want Mireille gone. He wanted Chris to stay.

Russell wanted many things, even if he didn't understand why he wanted them. Maybe he never would've realized, had he not met Tabasa, had Tabasa not tried to get closer to him, had Tabasa not made the special, fluttering feeling exist. But Tabasa had done all that, and new feelings had started to sprout after that, and now Russell was starting to realize some things about himself he'd never given much thought to.  
He'd never realized how so much of his life was founded on his interactions with other people. He'd just been walking along a straight path, not paying attention to those that surrounded him.

But now he was.  
He was noticing how troubled Chris was.  
He was noticing how tired Mireille was.  
He was noticing how important Tabasa was.  
He was noticing all these things, more and more, and had no idea what all those things amounted to; but they were there, in his mind. And he felt like maybe he was supposed to do something with those things. He just didn't know what.

Russell stared at the compress in his hands, and for some reason he remembered how heavy the knife had weighed in his hand, that evening at Kantera's. He wondered yet again why he hadn't simply killed the doctor, the way Kantera wanted it. Surely the poison must've been very painful. Surely Russell could've spared the doctor unnecessary suffering. Tabasa wouldn't have had to know anything about it, and it wouldn't have changed anything. Why hadn't he repaid his debt to the doctor?  
Why had he been so sure that Tabasa wouldn't want him anymore if he did, and why was he so afraid of that possibility?

The cold, slimy feeling in his guts was back, so Russell put the compress up to his face and tried to forget about the knife. He opened the door and left through the back of the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin.  
> I said I'd upload two chapters after my exams, so the next one is following closely. As in, five minutes later closely. My exams were over one week ago but I needed the rest... And the time to write these puppies!  
> So here you go. Mireille's not doing too good, apparently.  
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	24. Tuesday

It was Tuesday.

Today was the day Tabasa was going to share his crossword puzzles with Russell, like he'd promised.

The boy curled up in his bed at the thought.

Russell wasn't sure if he wanted to go to the zoo. He wanted to see Tabasa, there was no doubt about it, but he just didn't feel comfortable with going there right now. Ever since he'd learned about Kantera's death, Russell had been feeling a bit under the weather. Sometimes, when he thought of Kantera, an odd, cold feeling would clamp down on his insides, and he didn't like it. It didn't go away, and it was a lot worse than the incomprehensible flutter he felt upon thinking of Tabasa.

It smelled a bit musty near the ground. From where Russell lied, he could see all the small clumps of dust gathering under his mother's bed. His elbow still felt weird from when it had hit the table, even if he didn't need the sling anymore. It felt weird when he woke up, if he had spent the night sleeping with his arm tucked under his head or pillow. It also felt weird when he carried too much stuff with that arm. It didn't hurt, but it was inconvenient.

Russell rolled over and faced the wall.

Tabasa would know what the clamping feeling was.  
Tabasa would explain if Russell asked him to, but Russell didn't want to tell him about what had happened. Maybe the zookeeper would think Russell had been the one to kill Kantera; after all, Russell had tried to kill Tabasa before.   
Kantera had even asked Russell to end his life, and if the doctor thought he was capable of it, then Tabasa would think the same. Maybe Tabasa would become afraid again, like in the beginning. Maybe he would run away. Maybe he would leave Russell behind, sever their link, and leave him alone with his wavering mind and unstable heart.

Russell pulled the cover closer to his face.

He had to keep the clamping feeling to himself. That wasn't a problem- he was used to keeping to himself. What he was afraid of was that seeing Tabasa might make the feeling worse.   
Tabasa made Russell's feelings sprout and spill and the boy couldn't do anything to control it. And most of those feelings did not feel bad, even if they scared him. But this feeling... This cold, dead, slimy feeling was something Russell did not want to see growing bigger and wilder. He knew he would not be able to push it back in a cage. It was already roaming free inside of him.

The doctor had said that Russell didn't need to be afraid of the zookeeper. The doctor understood Russell well. And although Russell wasn't one to doubt the doctor's words, he didn't understand why the doctor had said that, nor what he'd meant by it. If only Kantera had explained it.  
If only Russell had asked.  
If only they'd had a bit more time.  
If only Russell hadn't left right then and there.

Russell pushed the cover away and sat up. His side hurt. There was new bruise there, but he didn't feel like going to see Mireille. She was acting strange these days.

The boy contemplated his choices. There were two possibilities: either seeing the zookeeper would help Russell tame the feeling, either it would rear its ugly head and bite harder. 

The boy stared at the dirty bedroom floor. He wasn't usually this indecisive, but he really didn't want the feeling to get worse and he was afraid it would spoil his time with Tabasa. He didn't want the things in his life to contaminate the zookeeper. Going to see Tabasa was something he viewed as completely separate from everything else he did, and he wished to keep it that way. He felt different when he went there, like when he went to church, but in a cleaner way. His shoulders got just a bit lighter whenever he saw Tabasa's green coat and kind eyes.

Russell got to his feet and neatly pulled up his cover over the thin mattress to make his bed, then made his way to the living room. He'd forgotten to steal his mom's money before she left, and that meant he didn't have anything to pay the entrance fee. He looked around the house for the meager possibility of any money lying around, but came up unsurprisingly empty-handed. He considered not going to see Tabasa, but then he remembered that the zookeeper was worried when he didn't come. Besides, now that he couldn't go, he wanted to go even more.

Russell stopped looking for money and went to grab his coat. It didn't matter if he didn't have any. He would've preferred to get in the zoo in an honest manner, but if he couldn't, then he'd go no matter what.

 

When he reached the zoo, there were a people flowing in and out the gates, but not enough to call a crowd. It would be difficult to simply slip through by mingling with the people. He stopped a few feet away from the entrance to consider his options.  
He decided to sneak through regardless, on the off chance that he might go unseen.

Russell thrust his hands further into his pockets and followed a couple inside, hiding next to the man. They stopped to pay the entrance fee and Russell continued walking through the gates without looking back. 

"Hey, you!"

Russell glanced over his shoulder and saw that the man behind the counter was looking straight at him, so he stopped. The man spoke to the people paying the entrance fee, raised a hand when they answered, and then slipped out of the booth to join Russell.

"Did you pay the entrance fee, young man?" he asked.

Russell said his parents had, and that they were waiting inside.

"Is that so? What did they look like?"

Russell answered without missing a beat, knowing full well there was no way for the man to remember every one of the visitor's appearance.

The man didn't look like he quite believed what Russell was saying. "And where would they be? Why are you alone?"

Russell shrugged and said he'd forgotten his wallet to buy souvenirs, so he'd gone home to find it but he hadn't in the end. Then he said that if the man didn't believe him, they could go find his parents together and they'd show him the tickets they'd bought.

The man looked back at the people staring and waiting for their turn in front of his booth, then looked around for a collegue, but fortunately for Russell, there was none.  
He looked back at the boy and shook his head. "It doesn't matter, you can go. Don't forget to make them show me the tickets when you leave."

Russell said of course, and the man went back to the booth.  
The boy turned around and started walking again. He knew the man would probably forget about the whole conversation, and if he did recognize Russell next time, he wouldn't remember if his "parents" had shown him their tickets. The boy had done everything to ensure he wouldn't mark the man's memories, but sometimes acting the least suspicious possible wasn't enough. He'd know for sure if he got off scot-free next time he came to the zoo, if the man didn't recognize him.

It didn't take too long for Russell to find the zookeeper, who was checking something over the railing of the antelopes' pen. He walked up to the green coat from behind and said hello.

Tabasa whirled around then, a frightened look on his face. Then he flattened a hand against his chest and closed his eyes. There was a small pause before he spoke.

"Look, Russ...  
Don't do this to me, buddy...  
Seriously."

He opened his eyes and looked at Russell.

"You're gonna give me a heart attack one day, sheesh...  
I'm happy to see you and all, but I've told you before, don't sneak up on me like that.  
... Okay?"

Russell nodded and said sorry.

"It's fine, it's fine.  
... Just don't do it again."

Then Tabasa frowned a bit.  
"...You cold?  
Where'd your scarf go?  
... Did you forget it?"

Russell noticed he was shivering, and then said he'd lost it.

"Well, that's not good...  
You finally had something warm on you.  
Maybe you should go straight to my room... What do you say?  
... We wouldn't want you catching a cold."

Russell said he didn't want to be bored.

"Oh! That reminds me...  
I brought the crossword sheets, you want to do them there?"  
Tabasa flashed him a genial smile.  
"It won't be too boring then, what do you say?

Russell stared at him. Tabasa's smile was nice to look at, and suddenly he minded going to the room a little less.

"Ah, nobody's sick today, though...  
You'll be alone back there."

Russell shrugged. He didn't mind the silence. He just wished Tabasa would be there too so they could talk.

Tabasa made a thoughtful expression, and then said :   
"...Tell you what, I'll join you for my pause.  
That way you won't be alone the whole time.  
... Is that okay?"

Russell said sure.  
Tabasa rummaged through one of his big pockets and fished out some keys. He took one out of the bunch and handed it to Russell.

"Here you go, it's the key to my room.  
... You remember where it is, right?"

Russell nodded.

"The puzzles are on the desk right next to the door.  
... It's uh, still a mess there, but don't mind it, okay?"

Tabasa looked a bit embarrassed. 

Russell simply nodded again, and left with the key. He walked along the zoo's diverging paths, merging into the crowd of visitors, until he reached the familiar gray building where he'd tried to kill Tabasa. He looked back to make sure no one was noticing the fourteen-year-old enter a building he obviously wasn't supposed to be entering, but people didn't seem to mind him. He quickly slipped inside and closed the door behind him before papers from Tabasa's desk flew all over the place.

His eyes roamed about. The place was devoid of any animals and silent, and it seemed Tabasa had forgotten to open the blinds on the window this morning. Russell stepped up to the window and pulled on the cord, letting the light pour in. He turned around and went to the desk, which was still overflowing with the same papers he'd seen all that time ago. Tabasa hadn't cleaned up at all.

Russell wasn't surprised that the zookeeper was as untidy as ever. He even felt a little tickled inside.

The boy looked around for a chair or a stool, and a swivelly one caught his attention. It was all the way over on the other side of the room. Russell stared at it and wondered if Tabasa thought the way he managed his room was a good one. He brought the chair back to the desk and sat down, then looked for the crosswords. He didn't want to make a mess by sifting through the papers, because he was pretty sure that Tabasa hadn't put anything on his desk for a while now. The boy looked around him, and then under the desk. There was a bright blue and yellow booklet sitting next to the desk's feet, and it had landed with its cover facing up, with several white papers sprawled on the floor all around it. Russell supposed Tabasa had just thrown it on his desk in a hurry and it had slipped over the side in a waterfall of papers. Maybe the zookeeper had been out the door by then without seeing, but he probably just hadn't bothered to pick anything up.

Russell took the booklet and put it on the side, and then he started cleaning up a bit. He found a pencil under one of the sheets. It had a giraffe pattern. Russell put it on top of the booklet.  
He gathered all the papers and stacked them neatly together before setting them on the desk. He considered tidying the desk, too, but maybe Tabasa wouldn't like that. Instead, Russell settled for doing the puzzles on top of the whole mess.

He opened the booklet. Most of the puzzles were finished, but there were missing words in several. It seemed Tabasa often did the puzzles with a pen, so there were a lot of scratched out letters everywhere. The inside of the zookeeper's crossword booklet was as messy as his room. Russell could only imagine what Tabasa's house looked like.

Russell took the giraffe pencil in his hand. The tip wasn't very sharp, but at least the eraser wasn't completely gone, and the pattern was a nice touch. Russell settled in the swivelly chair and started deliberating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin.  
> That giraffe pencil is just the greatest. I'm sure Segawa also has an animal-pattern-pen for Tabasa somewhere in his character sheets. I mean, come on, that would really suit him. Right? I'm not the only one thinking that?
> 
> So anyway, I know I just came back from the warzone of my studies, aka exams, and I've tried to catch up with my update tardiness with these two chapters... But there are bad news. I've started an internship (two months) for a qualification that I'm trying to get simultaneously with my current studies. And it's more time-consuming than I thought.  
> "But TNKT, why would you do that to yourself? Don't you have enough work as it is? Do you WANT to suffer? And what about your stories? They're supposed to be your babies!"  
> They are, okay, they are! I love my stories. I love the characters in them, original and fanfic-ey. And I wish I could write more often and have the motivation other people do, but I'm just not the kind of person who can juggle so many things at the same time, unfortunately...
> 
> So yeah, all this to say the next chapters are going to be late. It really shouldn't be a surprise to anyone by now...  
> Sorry! ☆  
> Thanks for reading, and leave a comment if you feel like it!


	25. Bored, Cold and Scolded

Tabasa came back to his room by the time Russell had finished four of the puzzles. Russell heard the door open and his gaze crossed Tabasa's. The zookeeper smiled at him and stepped inside, leaving the door half-open.

"Hey there, Russell," the zookeeper said. "Doing good?"

The boy nodded.

Tabasa spoke again, and he sounded a bit hesitant.  
"So uh, just so you know, I'm not going to stay for too long...  
I've got work to catch up."

Russell said it was fine. It wasn't really, because he wanted to talk with Tabasa, but he didn't even know how to explain what was bothering him so it didn't matter.

"So how're the crosswords going?" asked Tabasa.

Russell handed him the booklet, but Tabasa gestured for him to just toss it over, so Russell did. Tabasa deftly caught it in mid-air and flipped it open. He took a moment to read the new words and looked up, and Russell figured he looked happy. There was more to the man's expression, but he didn't know what.

"That's... pretty amazing," said Tabasa with a smile.  
"You found some great words...!  
I never could've found them on my own... for sure."

Russell didn't answer and just twirled the giraffe pencil between his two fingers.

Tabasa lowered the booklet and noticed the stack on his desk.  
"... Did you do some cleaning?"

Russell stared at him. Even if he had done some cleaning, the mess in Tabasa's room was hopeless.

Tabasa looked surprised at that, and then he smiled.  
"Did you just... Was that sass?"

Russell said maybe.

Tabasa laughed and tossed the booklet back.  
"I know it's a mess here, you don't have to rub it in my face..."  
Then he muttered to himself : "I should really tidy up the place though."

Russell agreed. Tabasa shot him a look and sighed.

"I get it, I get it.  
Well... I better get back to work.  
If you need anything, you know where to find me."

Russell nodded, and watched as the zookeeper waved and left the room. The door closed on Tabasa's back and the place fell silent. The boy swivelled back at the desk and gazed pensively at the crosswords.  
Tabasa had praised him.

... It felt nice.

Russell stayed a bit longer, and decided it was time to leave when he couldn't find any more of the crosswords. It was a bit boring without Tabasa there, anyway. If Russell had warmer clothes, he could spend more time outside with the zookeeper. He wished he could've kept the scarf, again.  
Russell closed the booklet and put it on the desk, neatly setting the pencil down next to it. He slid off the chair and walked out, remembering to close the door behind him with the key, and set out to find the zookeeper.

He found him at Little Farm, and Tabasa noticed the boy's presence before he even stepped inside.  
"Hey, Russell. Done with the crosswords, or do you need something?"

Russell handed him the key and said he was done.

"So you're leaving then," figured the zookeeper.  
"... You didn't stay very long today."

Russell told him that it was boring to be alone in that room.

"Yeah, sorry...  
My pause was really short.  
... Not much of a pause at all."

Russell shrugged and said it was fine. Tabasa straightened and patted down his coat to remove the pieces of straw.

"So, Russell...  
Are we still good to go for the aquarium?"

Russell nodded.

"Did you tell your friend?  
... Chris?"

Russell said he'd forgotten to tell him.

"Well, it's next week... Let's meet up on Monday, if that's okay with you two.  
Monday morning at, say... 10AM.  
Make sure he can come, all right?"

Russell said all right.  
Tabasa smiled at him. "All right then... See you on Thursday."

_

 

Russell went to school the next day to see if he could find Chris. His friend was sitting at his desk with his chin in his hand, but when he saw Russell, his eyes widened.

"Dude! Over here!" He gestured wildly for the blonde to join him.

Russell made his way across the desks and Chris nearly pounced on him.

"Where've you been?  
I heard the teacher say you haven't been to school for days!  
I though somethin' had happened to you, you were actin' all weird and shit!"

Russell remembered that the last time he'd seen Chris was last week, after his father had kicked him out of the house. He hadn't thought to go see Chris again after that, and even less about school.  
Russell said it was nothing, that he just hadn't felt like coming.

"No Russ, I'm serious, like what the hell man?" exclaimed his friend. He looked somewhat cross.  
"Your face was all messed up and you didn't stay in the morning, and then I didn't hear from you in like, three days, and then I learn you haven't been to school either- Where were you, even? Did you stay home or what?"

Russell said he hadn't been feeling well.

"Man, Russ, I told you you could come over if you needed...  
Why the hell would you stay with your parents?"

Russell didn't want to bother Chris' mom. She was sick. It would be inconvenient for her to have to watch over two people.

Chris shook his head. "No, man, Mom's a lot better now. She's getting over it, she's tough you know."  
Then he grabbed Russell by the shoulder. "But serious, did you get hurt again or somethin'? Did you have to go to the hospital? Cause if that's the case you gotta tell me, Russ, I mean what if something-"

At that point Chris seemed to remember that they were in the middle of their classmates, so he pulled Russell closer and lowered his voice.  
"Look, if somethin' bad happened to you and your parents didn't do anythin' to help you, you know you could count on me right?"

Russell stared at Chris without answering. He didn't understand what Chris was getting at.

"I mean, we both know your parents are douchebags, okay, it's no secret to me. An' maybe they don't care if you get hurt, but honestly, if you got hurt or sick real bad I'd be worried man. I mean I know somethin's up with you, Russ, even if you won't tell me. But you gotta understand, we're friends, right, and cause I'm your friend I wanna know when you're in trouble. You get that?"

Russell answered : kind of.

Chris sighed. "Okay well, guess that's good enough. Jus' don't go disappearing like that after I see you so messed up, got it? I thought you ran away or some shit."

Russell nodded. Chris let go of his shoulder and leaned against his desk.  
"So are you sick or somethin'?"

Russell didn't think so. He'd just been feeling weird for a while.

Chris observed him and his expression seemed unconvinced. "Really? Cause you look pretty tired to me."

Russell said he wasn't lying.

"I'm not sayin' you're lyin', Russ, just that you look like you could probably use some rest. Pretty sure you couldn't sleep well at your parents', right?"

Russell shrugged.

"Well if you need a good night's sleep, just come on over. I'm sure Mom won't mind now that she's feeling better."

It was Russell's turn to be unconvinced. He knew Chris' Mom didn't need Russell there, she already had enough on her plate as it was. She didn't disapprove his presence during the night, but she certainly didn't approve it either. It looked more like she had gotten used to the idea rather than she had accepted it. He knew he cost her money whenever he ate or slept there.  
Then Russell remembered he was supposed to talk about the aquarium to Chris, and asked if Chris' mom would be okay with paying the aquarium's entrance fee.

Chris seemed surprised by the sudden change of topic.  
"The aquarium? You want us to go there?"

Russell said it was the zookeeper's idea.

Chris squinted at his friend.  
"So... You wan' us to go with that guy to the aquarium? He's your friend, not mine. Why would I go with you two?"

Russell said it could be nice.

"I don't know 'im," stated Chris. "It would jus' be awkward."

Russell said the zookeeper had been the one to propose for Chris to come along.

"What- Why?" exclaimed Chris. "He doesn't even know me!"

Russell shrugged. He didn't really understand himself, but it sounded like a good idea for the three of them to go together. Tabasa sounded like he wanted to meet Chris, even if Russell was a bit reluctant at the idea of Tabasa and Chris coming in contact with each other. As long as Chris didn't say anything about the bad things in Russell's life, it would be okay. Tabasa wouldn't be contaminated. Russell told his friend that he couldn't say anything about them.

"What?" said Chris. "So you want me to come, but I can't say anythin'? What's the point then?"

Russell shook his head. It was fine if Chris talked with Tabasa, but he couldn't say anything about his parents or what they did when they didn't go to school. He didn't want Tabasa to know.

Chris had a strange expression, and he crossed his arms.  
"So that guy's your friend but he doesn't know anything about you? How does that work?"

Russell said they talked about a lot of other things. Like animals, and crosswords. Sometimes they didn't talk and it didn't matter.

"Man, you guys are weird..."  
Chris seemed to think to himself and then he shrugged.  
"Heck, why not. I haven't gone to the aquarium since I was six anyway. I think Mom'll actually be glad I do somethin' kind of normal for once, don't worry 'bout the money."

Russell said okay, and told him they were supposed to meet up in front of the zoo on Monday morning.

"Okay, sounds good to me," said Chris.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin.  
> That's right. I'm on time with your monthly update. Wait, don't faint, it really shouldn't be that big of a deal-  
> Shoot. Well, you probably weren't standing when you saw this, so it's fine.  
> Anyway, yeah, the internship's gettin' a bit old, I just want to be done with it and be on summer break! My last true summer break ever! I hope I'll get the inspiration for future chapters during said break, so I can try and stock up on those before I start the hectic bunch of years that constitute the rest of my studies. Man, I am not looking forward to that. No siree.  
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	26. Scraped Knees, A Beast's Green Eyes

For once, Russell's dad wasn't the one to hurt him this time. Russell didn't even see it coming. One moment he was talking with Chris on the side of the school's basketball yard, the next he was thrown to the ground and his knees burned.  
Russell looked up and recognized that the one who had pushed him was one of Gardenia's friends. It was the girl who didn't like them.

"What the hell?!" yelled Chris. "What's your problem?"  
"It's not my fault, you guys were in my way!"  
"Yeah? Well how 'bout you apologize, you bitch?"  
"Oh my god! Did you just call me a bitch?!"  
Gardenia appeared next to her friend. "Calm down, Mel! You're the one who pushed him, so you should say sorry."  
"But I didn't do it on purpose!"  
"What?!" exclaimed Chris, compeletely irate. "Are you fucking kiddin' me?! You obviously did!"

Russell picked himself up and tried to pull Chris away, telling him it was alright.   
"No, it's not alright!" retorted Chris. He didn't budge and kept glaring at the girl. "I saw her push you on purpose!"  
"I did not!" repeated the girl. She was getting red in the face.  
Gardenia looked at Russell and suddenly asked : "Are you okay, Russell? Your knees look really bad."  
Russell peered down at his knees and saw they were all scraped up, and so did Chris. The blonde shrugged and said it was nothing, but Chris turned on the girl again.  
"Look what you did!"

Suddenly they heard a man's voice next to them. "Is everything alright?"  
The four of them turned in unison and saw that a teacher was standing there, his hands on his hips. He had a stern expression on his face. "What's going on here?"

Russell didn't answer. Chris was glaring at the teacher, already knowing he would get into trouble for something he hadn't done. There was a small moment of silence during which no one said anything.  
Then Gardenia spoke up. "Melody ran into Russell, but-"  
"It was an accident!" said her friend. "And Chris called me a bitch!"  
"He did what?" said the teacher.  
"Hold on!" Chris exclaimed defensively. "That ain't the problem, you definitely pushed him on purpose!"  
The teacher crossed his arms on his chest. "Chris, do you want to take another trip to the principal's office?"  
"What?!"shouted Chris. "She's the one who pushed Russell!"  
The teacher looked at Russell and said : "Bring him to the nurse's office first, and then I want both of you to go and explain what happened to the principal."  
"What? Me too?" said Melody.  
"You too," said the teacher. "Unless Gardenia can tell me that it really wasn't on purpose."

They all looked at the white-haired girl. She glanced at her friend, then looked at the ground.   
"I, um... I'm not sure."  
"Gardenia!" exclaimed Melody, her voice shrill with indignation.  
"Look, I don't know! I was trying to catch Nora, not you! I only saw Russell fall!" retorted Gardenia.  
"Well then. Both of you better be at the principal's in ten minutes," stated the teacher.  
Melody glared at them and stomped off with a huff, and the teacher left the three children alone.

"Shit, I knew he was gonna rag on me. Your friend is a bitch," Chris muttered with hunched shoulders.  
Gardenia frowned at him. "Hey, watch your mouth!"  
Russell watched them silently. His knees hurt, but he didn't want to go see the school nurse. He didn't like her at all, because she didn't like him. He could see it in the way she handled him. She didn't really care if he got hurt, and she touched him the least amount possible. When he'd gone there, he'd felt like he had some kind of contagious disease or something. It could've been because his clothes smelled bad, or because she didn't like that he didn't talk or smile. He didn't really care to know why : all he knew was that if he ever was going to see a nurse, it certainly wasn't that one.

Russell resigned himself to go see Mireille. No matter how weird, she was still a better nurse than the school's, and he didn't want to stay with bloody knees all day.  
He told Chris he was going to go.

"To the nurse's?" asked his friend.

Russell shook his head.

"You're leaving?" asked Gardenia.

Russell turned to her and considered her inquisitive blue eyes. He didn't like that she was asking him things, as if she cared. He turned around without answering and left Chris and Gardenia to themselves.

"Why doesn't he answer, like, ever?" he heard Gardenia ask Chris.  
"Well maybe he doesn't wanna," answered his friend. "Anyway, I gotta go to the shitty principal's now. Fuckin' great. Don' forget to thank your _friend_ for me."  
"Hey, it's not my fault you called her a bitch and got in trouble for it!"

Russell didn't hear the rest. He was already out of the schoolyard by then.

 

When he reached the building, Russell approached the hospital with an apprehensive feeling in his gut. He hoped Mireille had gone back to normal, that her patient had said something to make her better, so that he wouldn't have to face her pale lips and tired eyes. He hoped she had stopped looking so much like Kantera from back then.   
Russell slipped around the back of the hospital and waited next to the door. There was a black cat waiting there as well. It had green eyes and was staring impassibly at the boy. Russell knew Mireille liked to sit outside and play with that cat when she took her pauses and when the weather was warm enough. She didn't smoke during her pauses, not like other nurses.  
Now the weather was so cold that Mireille probably never opened that door unless it was to let Russell inside. She stayed inside for her pauses. The boy wondered whether the cat felt lonely. It didn't look lonely. It didn't have any kind of expression.

When Mireille finally stepped in the room, Russell got up and knocked on the window. He was really cold, and wanted to come inside to warm up a little, so he didn't really take the time to study her. The nurse looked surprised by the sound, but when she turned to look outside and saw him, her expression shifted. She unlocked the door, gestured him to come in and turned back around to leave the room immediately. Russell wondered what had gotten into her, but he went inside just as she'd told him to and sat down to wait for her to come back.   
Mireille reappeared only minutes later, carrying a bag with her. She walked up to him, and without saying a word, set her bag on the table next to them. Russell saw that Mireille had not gotten any better. Her face was pale as ever, and there was no warm light in her green eyes. Even her salmon coloured hair seemed dulled and dreary. It used to be neatly tucked behind her ears, and now it simply hung loose around her face.

Mireille spun around and her intense gaze pinned Russell where he stood.  
"I-I thought about last time, when I was going to tell you," she stated.  
Russell waited for her to continue.  
"...I, um, can't talk about it to anyone else here,  
and, um, I really don't think it would be a good idea to tell anyone at all.  
Though... Y-You aren't mean, Russell.  
I-I think I can tell you, after all."

Russell stared at her. He'd come here to get the cuts on his knees fixed, and now she was talking about what was wrong with her. The boy asked if she had any desinfectant. Her eyes widened.

"O-Oh! I'm s-sorry!  
I-I didn't even think...!"  
She hastily walked over to a drawer and pulled out a bottle and some compresses.  
"J-Just sit down, I'll fix you up.  
And I'll... er..rr..."  
She seemed to hesitate as she glanced at the bag on the table, her fidgety fingers unwrapping the compresses. Then her eyes hardened with decision and she finished: "I-I'll talk about my, um, problem."

Russell didn't answer, uneasy silence lingering between them. The nurse started cleaning the cut.

"R-Russell, do you know what love feels like?"  
Russell shook his head slowly, tensely, but Mireille wasn't looking at him. She didn't seem to care about his answer.

"I-I love someone, but... that person doesn't love me."  
Russell understood right away she was talking about her patient. This time, her cheeks weren't getting pink.  
"...H-He can't love me. Because something is... blocking the way."

Mireille's eyes were strange, and she was rubbing the desinfectant in Russell's cuts with unusual strength. It stung a lot more than usual. Russell didn't speak a word, didn't move. He didn't dare. This felt wrong.

"N-No matter what I do, he won't love me."  
She looked up at Russell, and he saw that her green eyes were burning.  
"I-It's not fair, right?" she exclaimed, her voice suddenly loud. "Why can't I have his love? W-What makes me unworthy?"

Russell felt agitated inside. It was like Mireille was a different person, like there was a beast lurking under the depths of her bright green eyes and it was about to jump out and bite. The boy tried to retrieve his knee from the nurse's grip, but she was holding it tightly. Too tightly.

"W-Why can't I get what I want?" she asked Russell, and Russell didn't reply. He was too tense to speak, and he didn't know the answer to her question in the first place. Russell wanted to run from her. He wanted to run away from this place.

Mireille threw the compress in the trash at Russell's side and started to apply a bandage to Russell's knee.  
"N-No one understands.   
I-I'm the one who's there for him.  
I-I'm the one who's caring and, and looking after him all the time.  
So why, why doesn't he love _me_??"

Her movements were jerky and not gentle at all, and Russell didn't like it. It hurt.  
She looked at him, her green gaze as piercing as a hawk's.  
"W-What do you think, Russell?  
I-It's not fair, right?"

Russell just stared at her. It was disturbing to see Mireille act so strained and be so harsh, in a way that was so different from usual. He could feel cold tingles at the back of his neck and head, like his hairs were rising.

The nurse seemed to sense his unease and she didn't insist, looking down to finish what she was doing.  
"I-It's alright if you don't know.  
After all, you... W-Well, you're just a child."

Then she stood up and smiled at Russell, and the beast in her green eyes had disappeared. It was like nothing had ever happened.  
"T-There, all patched up.  
...Er... You should be a bit more careful with yourself, R-Russell.  
W-What would you do without me?"

Russell avoided her gaze and said thanks. The bag on the table caught his attention again, and he saw a red corner peeking out the top. He quickly slid off his seat and told the nurse goodbye, before leaving as fast as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin.  
> I'm finally on break, my presentation to validate my internship was on Thursday so I'm free for a few weeks.  
> But who cares about that! Look at that Chris-Gardenia interaction! Look at that little jerk Melody get scolded for being an ass! Look at that Mireille going crazy, slowly but surely! Man, what a chapter!  
> Hoped you liked it, thanks for reading and leave a comment if you feel like it!


	27. Cereal Bars

When he went back to the zoo on Thursday, the man selling the tickets said :  
"I didn't see you leave last time."

Russell stilled, his extended hand holding the change out. He'd underestimated this man's memory. The man was staring at him with cold eyes, so the boy said he'd forgotten to show the tickets upon leaving because his parents had been in a hurry to return home.

"Hm..." The man behind the counter acknowledged his answer with a small frown. "I don't know if I should believe you, so you better not do that again. I won't be as indulgent next time. I'm sure you know that people get in trouble for not paying the entry fee."  
Russell wordlessly dropped the coins in the small metal drawer and the man pulled it back to him. The shiny change disappeared behind the window, and a paper ticket came out in exchange. Russell picked it up from the metal plate and pocketed it.

"Off you go," said the man. Russell didn't need to be told twice and quickly turned to leave the booth, continuously avoiding his gaze. He didn't like the look in the man's eyes, and found himself wishing to find the zookeeper as soon as possible. It was getting even colder outside, Christmas was coming soon. There were some decorations scattered about the zoo like cardboard cutouts of Santa Claus, candy canes and bells hanging around here and there. Russell had noticed that the ticket booth was also decorated according to Christmas colors, all red and white, and there was a reindeer with a red nose sitting on top. Russell couldn't ignore any of it, but he would've liked to. He really didn't like Christmas.

Tabasa was near the antelopes, and greeted Russell like usual when they met. The boy didn't tell him about the man at the booth, but he stuck close to the zookeeper. If Tabasa noticed how close they were walking, he didn't say anything about it. He just talked about how the cold weather made some animals lazy and unwilling to go outside, while others liked seeing visitors even more than usual because of how bored winter made them. Russell didn't speak. He felt a bit better now that Tabasa was beside him, but he couldn't get the prospect of the approaching holiday out of his head. His Christmas wasn't going to be like one of those magical and festive depictions of a holy day he saw everywhere in the streets: it was going to be a day like any other, with mushy, dirty snow on the sidewalks and beer cans lying everywhere in the house. There would be no music, no lights, no Christmas tree, and no wonderful Christmas meal. There would only be his parents sitting on the couch, sharing their bottle of wine in front of the TV commercials, and when the bottle would run out they would drink beer like usual. Normally Mom didn't like being touched by Dad, and Dad didn't try, but it was different for Christmas. When they would be drunk enough, Dad would start touching Mom, and they'd make noise until they would pass out from the alcohol. It was disgusting.

Tabasa quickly noticed that Russell's hunched shoulders were shivering, so he handed him the key to his room.   
"Why don't you go warm up?  
I brought a different set of puzzles for you this time...   
I think you'll like those too." 

Russell took the key, but he didn't leave right away. When he asked if Tabasa could stay longer for his pause today, the zookeeper hesitated. He looked away from Russell's face for a little bit, but Russell stayed. In the end, the man answered : "...Sure. If you want me to."  
Russell nodded. He felt satisfied by the zookeeper's answer, and finally left for Tabasa's room.

He entered the small building and saw that the desk wasn't as messy as before. There were still a lot of papers, but at least they weren't strewn about. He sat on the swivel chair and opened the new booklet, this one a pale orange. There were a lot more incomplete puzzles in this one.  
The boy looked around for the giraffe pencil and lifted a few papers before finding it, and started to think.

 

Russell heard the door open half an hour later and he looked to the side. The zookeeper stepped in and pulled his hood back, and as he did so his cowlick sprung forth. Tabasa smiled at him.

"Hey there, buddy.  
How's it going?"

The man was rubbing his hands together, and Russell thought maybe they were cold from the weather outside. It was warm in Tabasa's room, though. Russell shrugged and handed him the booklet so Tabasa could see the progress he'd made today. The zookeeper swiftly took the booklet from Russell's hands and scrutinized the pages. His eyebrows rose up slowly, and then he looked at the boy sitting in his chair.

"Russell, you're really good at this kind of stuff...  
Do you like reading?"

Russell shrugged again, and said : a little bit.

"What kind of books do you read?" asked Tabasa.

Russell usually read storybooks, and sometimes novels, but it was a bit difficult to focus on long ones.

"Haha... Yeah, it's hard to concentrate sometimes," agreed Tabasa.  
"Novels definitely aren't my thing...  
I like reading reviews and magazines better."

The zookeeper lightly tossed the crossword booklet back at Russell. The boy caught the puzzles and flipped through them once more. He'd completed three and had tried five others, but the words were too complicated for him to find them all.   
Tabasa leaned back against the wall and took a cereal bar out of his pocket. Russell looked up when he heard the crinkling of the wrapper, and the zookeeper noticed. He gestured towards the boy with the snack.

"You want a piece?"

Russell hesitated. It looked good, but it was Tabasa's, not his. He wasn't even that hungry. His stomach hurt too much where his dad had hit him for him to feel hungry. He almost refused, but Tabasa broke off a morsel and tossed it at him before he had the time. Russell hastily dropped the puzzles in his lap to catch it.

"Oops, sorry...  
Probably should've handed you that instead of throwing," said Tabasa.

Russell answered that Tabasa's definition of handing things was throwing, so it didn't make a difference. 

"What? No it's not," answered Tabasa defensively. "I mean... It's not..."  
He stopped to consider how he'd given back the booklet earlier, and then said defeatedly :   
"...Maybe it is."  
Then he took a bite out of his cereal bar, and added with his mouth full :   
"...Are you going to sass me all the time now?   
Is that what's going on...?"

Russell shrugged and looked at the piece in his hand. There were chocolate chips.  
His stomach growled without warning.

"... Are you that hungry?" asked Tabasa. 

There was that expression on his face again that Russell knew but couldn't quite put his finger on. Russell said no, and ate the piece in one bite.

"You sure? ...I have more cereal bars in my bag, if you want," insisted the zookeeper, gesturing towards the backpack laying on the ground a few feet away.

Russell didn't answer, so the zookeeper pushed himself off the wall and went to get the bag. Russell watched the man grab his backpack, and decided that he would take a cereal bar if Tabasa really wanted him to eat. The zookeeper rummaged around for a bit, then went back to Russell and gave him two cereal bars, this time without throwing them.

That's when Russell noticed that the zookeeper's hands were shaking a little.

At first, Russell thought Tabasa was still cold.  
He looked up. Tabasa didn't look cold. And if he was cold, he would've kept his hood on.

The zookeeper waved the bars in front of his face, and in doing so his fingers stopped shaking.  
"Well? Are you going to take them?"

Russell didn't answer. He didn't move, either. He thought he was starting to understand what was going on. 

Faced with the boy's silent immobility, the zookeeper's lips twitched unvoluntarily and he cautiously repeated: "Russell?"

The boy stared at him and remembered that Tabasa had had the same nervous twitch when Russell had come back to apologize the second time they'd met. Back when Tabasa was scared of him. Maybe Tabasa was still scared. After all, they were in this place. The monkeys weren't there, but it didn't change that this was exactly where Russell had tried to kill the zookeeper. The clamping feeling happened again, and Russell knew he couldn't stay. He hadn't wanted to scare Tabasa. The zookeeper had wanted him to come in this room for warmth, because he worried about Russell ; but if it scared him, why had he come during his pause?   
Maybe that was why he hadn't stayed on Tuesday. Maybe he'd been too scared to spend time here alone with Russell.

Russell still didn't answer, and he finally saw how stiff Tabasa was. The zookeeper's smile had turned strange and his blue eyes were not as clear anymore. He was staring at him like he was expecting Russell to do something bad. The zookeeper was still scared of him. After all that time talking and walking across the zoo, things hadn't changed that much between them after all.  
Russell believed deep inside that he would never try to kill Tabasa again, but why would the man believe the same thing? Russell had tried once already, and it was one time too many. Tabasa was scared of him. How could the zookeeper care for someone who scared him? He must've been pretending the whole time. Why, Russell didn't care to know.

Russell slid off the chair without a word, and glanced at the zookeeper. Tabasa looked confused.

"...Russell?" he repeated.

The boy looked away and was about to bolt out of the room, but Tabasa suddenly grabbed him by the shoulder to stop him.

"Woah, buddy!  
Where are you going?  
Didn't you want..."

Tabasa stopped talking when Russell turned to face him. They stared at each other silently, and then Tabasa asked : "... What's wrong...?"

Russell didn't hesitate for this. It was the truth, a fact, something that now seemed clear as day. He simply stated that Tabasa was scared of him. He hadn't understood why Tabasa didn't like it when he said hello from behind, but now he did. Now he grasped the reason for the zookeeper's reactions. He didn't mean for it to be that way, but Tabasa was frightened and that was all there was to it. He would leave. Tabasa didn't have to pretend. It was fine. He would leave.

The zookeeper seemed stunned for a moment. Then he shook his head.  
"... No, no, Russell!  
That's not... I mean..."

He straightened and sighed.   
"Oh, man...  
This is hard to explain..."

He scratched his head distractedly and Russell stared at him. It wasn't what?

Tabasa let his hand fall.  
"Well, I'm... I mean, ever since then, I don't really like this place as much, you know?  
... Yeah, I'm still a bit scared... but, uh..."  
There was a moment of silence as the zookeeper gathered his thoughts.  
"Well, it's hard to explain," he repeated.  
"I don't think I can really do that.  
But... I don't want you to leave, you know.  
Oh, and I'm not pretending!" he precised vehemently.  
"I really want you to eat these cereal bars and I really do want you to come to the zoo, all right?"

Russell didn't understand.  
Why was Tabasa acting like this, when he was scared? Why was he being so nice to someone he feared? It made no sense. Why were things so _complicated_ , all the time? It made his head hurt. He didn't know what to say or do.

Tabasa watched him silently, and then tried to give him the bars again.  
"Look, Russ, buddy... Just take them.  
You're hungry, and I want you to have them.  
... Don't worry about me, all right?  
This is just... uh, a normal reaction, I guess...  
I can't control it."

The zookeeper waited patiently until Russell took the snacks from his hands, then gave the boy a pat on the shoulder.

"I like it when you're here, okay?  
Don't think otherwise."

Russell gazed at him, still holding onto the snacks, and said it didn't make any sense.

Tabasa shrugged lightly and smiled.  
"It doesn't always have to.  
... Stop worrying about all that, okay?"

Russell wasn't worrying. Russell didn't worry about things.  
Tabasa didn't answer that, so Russell insisted. He didn't worry.

"Okay, okay," answered Tabasa in surrender.  
"You're not worried... I get it."

Russell said he wasn't worried one more time, for good measure, and opened one of the cereal bars.  
This sweetness was something he didn't taste often. Anything was better than the cereal his mother bought him on good days, and even Chris didn't have such tasty snacks from his mom. Russell saw that the brand was one of the expensive ones they never bought. He pondered as he ate. So this was what expensive food tasted like.

"You like it?" asked Tabasa with a smile.

Russell nodded.

"Great," replied the zookeeper. And it really was great. It was the best thing Russell had eaten in years.

Russell kept munching on the cereal bar. Now that he'd started, he wasn't going to stop.  
It was good. It was really, really good.  
He quickly finished the first one and went to grab the second, but then he realized that if he ate the second one, he wouldn't have any left. He reluctantly put it back into his pocket and looked up, noticing that Tabasa was staring at him.  
He asked why Tabasa was staring at him.

The zookeeper dug into his pockets and handed him a third cereal bar.  
"Here."

Russell accepted it without making a fuss. So maybe it was Tabasa's and not his, but Tabasa was giving them to him, so it was probably fine.

"...If I'd known you'd like these so much, I would've brought you some earlier," stated Tabasa.  
"I'll bring some next time as well, for both of us."

Russell said thanks and started opening the cereal bar. Tabasa didn't answer right away. It looked like he had something else to say. After a short pause, he spoke again.  
"... Russell, you always try to run away.  
And you never tell me why you do it, when it happens..."

Russell stilled and stared at him. He didn't like where this was going.

"Don't do that, okay?"

Russell didn't understand. 

"I mean... Don't try to run away."

Russell stared at him, his cereal bar half-opened in his hands. He knew what Tabasa was saying, but it didn't make sense to him why Tabasa was telling him this. Was running away so bad? Why couldn't he run? It was the one thing that helped him escape things he didn't like or understand, without having to hurt anyone. If he couldn't run, then what could he do? He didn't want to hurt anyone, or Tabasa wouldn't want him. So if he couldn't run, and if he couldn't kill, then he was stuck. Why was Tabasa telling him this?  
Russell said again that he didn't understand.

Tabasa sighed.  
"It's just... I don't want you to feel like you have to run away when you're with me.  
You don't have to, all right? You really don't.  
If something bothers you, just tell me...   
Because I can't guess what's going on inside your head."

Russell tightened his hold on the cereal bar. Some things he just couldn't tell, especially to Tabasa.  
He himself didn't know what made him run away like that. It just felt easier to run away. He didn't feel like trying to understand, all the time, what made him uneasy, what made him scared, what made him feel anything he wasn't used to feeling. Running was now the only way out for him.  
So Russell said no.

Tabasa shot him a perplexed look. "No...?"

The boy suddenly felt like the inside of him was agitated and murky. No, he didn't want to tell Tabasa if something bothered him. Tabasa didn't need to know what was going on inside his head. Tabasa didn't need to know anything, because there was nothing to know, nothing to understand, and Russell didn't need for _anyone_ to understand him.

Tabasa shook his head, confusion spreading on his face.  
"Wait, Russell, I didn't mean upset you..."

Russell felt horribly strange. He was feeling on edge, like he was going to either explode or melt where he stood. Irritation buzzed and scratched at his skull, and nothing mattered anymore. He didn't want to stay. He didn't want to see Tabasa. He wanted to hit, and break, and tear, and run far away from everything and everyone until he was alone.  
Until there was no one left to understand, or to understand him.  
Until there was no one left to worry, or to worry about.  
Until there was no one left to stop him from running away.

"Russ?"

The cold and slimy feeling kept growing and growing.  
He head hurt, his face hurt, his stomach hurt.  
His body felt stiff and cold but he was burning inside.  
He was silent, but there was roaring in his head.

"... Russell, hey."

If he couldn't escape, then he was trapped with all the things that he couldn't understand and it scared him. Why did Tabasa want to trap him this way? Wasn't he allowed to avoid all of those things? Couldn't he be left alone?  
Why was Tabasa still scared of him?  
Was it because he'd killed Kantera so painfully?  
His head was pounding.  
But he'd been careful not to contaminate Tabasa, so why did Tabasa know?  
Why was Tabasa scared?  
Why was Tabasa still worrying about him even after what Russell had done to him?  
Why couldn't Russell understand anything, why could he never make sense of what people did?  
Why couldn't he simply run from everything?

"Russell!"

The boy suddenly snapped out of his trance. He remembered where he was. There was Tabasa leaning in front of him with a worried look. Russell forgot what he was thinking about. His stomach hurt, and he felt a bit woozy. He was tired. It was cold. His brain throbbed.

"Russell, are you all right?" asked Tabasa.

Russell said he didn't want to stop running away.

"...Okay," said Tabasa. "Okay."  
He nodded slowly.  
"...I shouldn't have said that.  
Sorry, Russell. Okay? Sorry."

Russell quietly said he had to go.

Tabasa didn't protest.  
"Okay, Russell."

Russell turned away and walked to the door. He felt like he was walking on a cloud. Something within him had turned. He needed to sleep. His head hurt.

"Russell..."

The zookeeper's voice stopped the boy's hand a few millimeters away from the handle. Russell didn't move.

"Next week, since we're going to the aquarium...  
Don't forget to bring some money for souvenirs, too, okay?"

Russell nodded slowly, and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin.  
> Tabasa hit a landmine there, but at least Russ has cereal bars. Cereal bars that will fight against all evil! I mean, they're Tabasa's, they've got to be at least concentrated kindness and fluffy rainbows. And they're finally going to the aquarium soon!  
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


End file.
